


Lost in Translation

by kaotic312



Category: Bulma - Fandom, DBZ - Fandom, Dragon Ball Z, Vegeta - Fandom, Vegeta x Bulma
Genre: F/M, Lemons, Missing 3 years, Naughty, Romance, Saiyan Courtship, don't like lemons don't read
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-24
Updated: 2014-08-24
Packaged: 2018-02-14 11:19:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 70,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2189706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaotic312/pseuds/kaotic312
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The un-seen courtship of two very stubborn people.  Bulma started it, only she had no clue what she was offering.  Earth to Saiyan, some things just don't translate well!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Dream

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own these characters, but I do so enjoy them!

"It was just a dream, Yamcha! Get over it!" Bulma sounded exasperated even as she tried her level best to ignore the pacing of her boyfriend. His constant nagging was giving her a headache.

But the former bandit merely growled and ran one hand through his hair. "You called that monster a good kisser!" He protested, referring to a conversation they'd had yesterday afternoon.

Puar, the cat-like creature that was Yamcha's friend and companion watched in wide-eyed silence. His gaze switching back and forth between the two.

Bulma put down the laser torch and pushed up the goggles to glare at the young man before her. He met her gaze glare for glare.

"Admit it! You said he was a good kisser! The guy tried to kill us all, Bulma!" Yamcha yelled at her.

Bulma sighed and shook off the thick welding gloves. "Yamcha, you idiot. Yesterday we were attacked by Frieza, saved by a mysterious stranger, learned that you and all the Z fighters are going to die, and the world will fall into chaos and despair." She paused for dramatic effect. "And you're worried because ...I had a dream?"

"A nightmare more likely!" Yamcha pumped one arm in the air, finger pointed upwards as if to make sure she realized the obvious.

The young woman sighed and shook the soft curls she'd recently had her hairstylist work on. It was a new look for her and she was still trying to get used to it, though she secretly thought she looked absolutely adorable. She shrugged one delicate shoulder. "Well, since nightmares DO make you wake up all sweaty and panting ..."

Yamcha's eyes nearly crossed as he roared out a denial.

Bulma smiled, loving to tweak Yamcha's temper. Still. She sighed and gave him a long look as he began pacing once more. The former bandit was getting ...getting ...what? She sighed again even as she ignored his ranting. Why was she poking at Yamcha this way? Sure, she HAD woken up all hot and bothered by a dream about Vegeta of all people. But she'd known sharing that with her boyfriend would stir up the proverbial hornet's nest.

"And then he came here to conquer and steal from us! The man is a monster and a villain, Bulma!"

The woman in question nodded, pretending as if she were really listening. Pretending? She sighed again. Bulma ...was bored. Which made her feel guilty. Then again, the dream she'd had HAD been hot. Still, she should turn the subject.

"Shouldn't you be off training to fight the Red Ribbon Army?" Bulma finally interrupted him. Then almost yawned as she watched Yamcha shudder.

"We're not strong enough!" The young man snapped, banging his hand into his palm.

Bulma shook her head. "You're scared." She pointed out the obvious bluntly. Why of all the Z fighters was Yamcha such a ...such a ...she didn't finish the thought, knowing it to be disloyal.

Her boyfriend sneered. "Anyone with sense would be."

"He's not." Bulma didn't even have to specify to which 'he' she was referencing. Then she winced, why oh why had she said that! It was only going to send the former-bandit into another rant.

"Stop talking about him! And while you're at it, stop dreaming about him kissing you!" Yamcha roared.

Bulma shook her head sadly. She had no illusions about the friggin' 'Prince of all Saiyans' looking at her like that. Man really was a villain and a stuffed shirt. She giggled. And that shirt was PINK. Because she was just a genius that way. Putting the big bad man in a pink shirt that said 'bad man'? Sometimes she was just too much!

Yamcha heard the giggle and roared out again, making Bulma roll her eyes.

.III

Vegeta stretched his shoulder muscles and headed back toward Dr. Brief's house. He had some ideas for training he wanted to run by the man. The warrior was not a happy man. There was a fight coming, one he already had advanced warning that he would lose. LOSE!

The Saiyan Prince sniffed in derision. Well, time traveling mysterious youth aside, Vegeta was not about to let this unexpected opportunity pass.

A fight with an enemy strong enough to take HIM out? Bring it on! Vegeta sneered. He'd train, he'd surpass them. He'd surpass Kakarot. He would win this fight and any other that life planned on throwing at him. And if life didn't oblige? He'd go looking for even bigger fights!

Vegeta smiled as he neared the house, though the smile faded into a sneer as he heard the horridly grating sounds of Yamcha complaining about something.

What did that idiot have to complain about? There was a war coming! A gift for all true warriors! Though the Prince thought little of Yamcha's fighting abilities.

Why, the man's woman had more gumption than Yamcha did. The woman was an idiot, but she was no coward.

Woman. Vegeta stopped to look off into the distance, ignoring the magnificent view. Landscapes held no interest for him. He wondered if Kakarot was training, or off with his woman? An Earth woman. Which led to thoughts of Kakarot's son, Gohan. The boy held promise, though Vegeta was loath to admit that even to himself.

Here he was. The last of the Royal Blood. The proud Saiyan Prince and the mongrel low caste who had somehow managed to achieve Super Saiyan. Before he himself could manage to do so. Vegeta's hands twisted as his gut churned with a familiar ache.

"How could that sniveling mongrel of a Saiyan have achieved so much!" Vegeta let the anger wash over him, steeling his resolve to meet, match, and BETTER Kakarot's achievements.

But one of those achievements? A son.

Yet, Vegeta could not stand any of Earth's females. Only Dr. Brief's daughter showed any spark of a fighting spirit. And she was loud, obnoxious, and bossy. And put him in a PINK shirt yesterday. Vegeta snarled at the memory.

And yet there was a hint of respect in his snarl. The woman had tricked him, sure. But she'd gotten him into that ridiculous color. Maybe she wasn't as stupid as he'd originally thought.

Then he heard Yamcha yelling again. No. The woman was an idiot if THAT was her choice of a mate.

.III

Yamcha's tirade stalled as he heard Vegeta enter the building. Then he frowned sharply at Bulma, who was nodding at him as if he were still talking. He sighed. She wasn't even paying close enough attention to realize he'd stopped speaking!

Bulma came to attention fast as Yamcha snapped his fingers in front of her face.

"Here comes your wet dream now." He hissed.

Bulma stuck out her tongue at him. "Don't be so crass. That's rude language in front of a lady."

"If you were a lady, you wouldn't be dreaming about him!" Yamcha hissed, falling silent as Vegeta walked into the room.

"Serving Woman!" Vegeta snapped. "I need to speak to your father about the pulse capacitor that I need for ..." He stopped as something was thrown at him.

Bulma smiled wickedly.

Vegeta looked down at the object in his hands. The pulse capacitor he'd wanted. He grunted, eyeballing the replaced parts and finding the work more than sufficient. "Tell your father he does good work."

"Oh I will." Bulma sassed him with all the haughtiness of royalty. "Except I did that." The Saiyan Prince scowled at her, making her smile even wider. "And on Earth? We say thank you."

Vegeta grunted. Like that would ever happen. He headed back out the door.

Yamacha leaned in close to Bulma. "Maybe he could kiss you instead of saying thank you."

Bulma shushed him with a wave of her hand.

Yamcha smirked.

Bulma narrowed her eyes at him. Then yelled out. "Oh Prince Vegeta? There is one more thing." Thinking the man already gone, she smiled and called out. "I'd like you to kiss me."

Yamcha bellowed in outrage.

While Bulma stood up and tapped her foot, with her arms crossed. "Never dare me." She told him sternly.

.III

Vegeta stood frozen.

Kiss her?

The woman did not know what it was she was offering. It was that simple. She could have no way of knowing what that request meant to a Saiyan male.

His mind flashed back to his home planet. The Saiyan women were fighters. Vicious and tough. And they held all the strings when it came to mating.

Women in heat became ...unstable. Thus, to prevent unwelcome deaths King Cold and his son Frieza had altered some of the traditional Saiyan ways. Separating the women from their infants to be raised in pods by caretakers, yes it had helped to inflate their race's population. But the ways courtship worked for the Saiyans? That had not been changed.

And it was true that Saiyan society had a long standing tradition. Women initiated courting. Always. There were no exceptions. Men ruled and warred. But women chose their mates. That's WHY men strove to be such strong warriors. To be chosen. To make the women notice them and choose the strongest with which to mate and have children. Strong, fighting, Saiyan children.

As a Prince of his people, there had never been a lack of female interest. But Vegeta had always put that off for 'later'. He'd always been far more interested in the warring ways of his people. Training, fighting, killing. Vegeta had loved it all. But now there was something more he wanted.

It was Kakarot's son's fault.

It wasn't Gohan himself that Vegeta wanted, no. What he wanted was what the boy represented. That was his problem. Vegeta blew out a soft breath. He'd been thinking about finding a way to have a son of his own. And then the idiotic woman had made that offer. And instead of ignoring it as he should, he was thinking about what it could mean for him.

Bulma had asked him to kiss her.

Did she know that those words were the start of a traditional Saiyan courtship?

No. Vegeta shook his head. She'd couldn't know. She was being a silly, idiotic woman. An Earth woman. His hand reached for the door, ready to leave.

Only.

His hand froze, centimeters from the door handle. What had she said yesterday? Her words rang suddenly through his head. 'I've known Goku since he was five years old!'

Vegeta's mind spun with the possibilities. Goku. A ridiculous name for a Saiyan. The man was and always would be the low level brat named Kakarot. A Saiyan who knew NOTHING of Saiyan ways. Or did he?

Vegeta's head turned reluctantly to eye the doorway leading back to the main room. All he had to do was slip outside, pretending he'd not heard her offer.

Still, he didn't move.

The woman had known Kakarot for years. She had to know something about Saiyans. Right? Of course she did! He looked down at the pulse capacitor he was holding. Vegeta smiled darkly. She'd been the one to fix this? That meant ...what exactly?

Oh. It didn't matter. Yamcha was with the woman. And though Vegeta couldn't stand the young man and thought his fighting skills on par with worms ...women chose their mates, and men couldn't change that. Not Saiyan men. It was unheard of, illegal for centuries in order to keep their fighting numbers strong.

Only, the Saiyan race was no more.

Vegeta's hand clenched painfully into a fist as a vein popped out into prominence next to his left eye. No. The Saiyan's continued. Through him and Kakarot. Gohan. And ...and HIS children. Vegeta needed a son.

And an offer had just been made.

.III

Bulma was hopping mad as Yamcha enumerated all the ways in which she was in the wrong and all the ways he was supposedly right. She fumed as he ridiculed her 'dream' about Vegeta kissing her. And she steamed when he made fun of her for calling the villain a 'good kisser' all from a STUPID dream from a STUPID woman.

"Yamcha. Go. Away." Bulma said clearly, rubbing her temples as she closed her eyes to her headache. It was because of this that she missed Vegeta stepping back into the room.

The former bandit eyed the Saiyan Prince and then looked at unsuspecting Bulma and decided to embarrass her. It would serve her right. "So. We're broken up, and you want me to leave and you want Vegeta to kiss you?"

Bulma nodded, eyes still closed for the moment. "Yes that's right." She sighed and opened her eyes to face an amused Yamcha.

Amused?

Her eyes flew with shock to the doorway where a certain Saiyan Prince was staring at her with a blank expression. Her mouth dropped open in shock. Red color lit her cheeks and spread down to her neck.

Yamcha laughed. Puar whistled low, nervous.

Vegeta was one minute by the door, and the next he was in her face. His expression remained blank though there was a hint of dark fire in his eyes.

Yamcha swallowed hard as Puar nearly fell from his perch on the bookcase as Vegeta pushed Bulma up against the wall and stared into her face.

The air between them grew heated. Bulma didn't know what to think. There was an edge of danger, but somehow ...she wasn't afraid.

Vegeta leaned in closer, letting his lips hover over hers. "Do you know what you just offered me?"

Bulma had no clue. But his eyes were so compelling. And in the back of her mind, she needed to know if real Vegeta could kiss as well as dream Vegeta.

"Yes." She lied.

The Saiyan Prince stared into her eyes and came to a decision. While women of his race initiated courtship, males had to accept ...or deny. It was a an inelegant system according to every race they'd ever encountered. But hey, for the Saiyan's, it worked.

"Say it again." Vegeta hesitated. This was no warrior-woman from his home. He had to be sure. And if he was stuck with an Earth woman to bear his child, then at least it could be one that had some spirit in her.

Bulma took a deep breath, expanding her chest inadvertently.

Vegeta felt the rise of her bosom as it lightly brushed against the outside of his armor. As a caress it was as chaste as they came. It didn't matter, his body immediately and viciously responded.

"Say it again, woman." Vegeta growled, his voice going rough as need poured through his bloodstream.

Bulma's knees quivered and in the background she could hear Yamcha yelling, but for the life of her she couldn't understand a thing he was saying.

"Say what?" She whispered.

Vegeta closed his eyes in frustration. She wasn't seeking courtship. She had no clue about Saiyan tradition. He started to back away.

Bulma, released from his gaze, blinked and saw him move as if ready to walk away. Her whole body protested. She put her hand on his shoulder.

Vegeta stilled. His eyes pinned her once more.

"Kiss me." She said breathlessly, amazed that he was here. When she'd told Yamcha her dream, she had put it more in the realm of fiction than for any hint of what could actually be.

"NO!" Yamcha yelped, and then dodged as Vegeta let loose a barrage of energy at him with one hand. All while never looking away from Bulma.

Puar cried out in shock and flew to Yamcha's fallen form as the former-bandit stared at his enemy and his one-time girlfriend. He pinched his arm hard, hoping THIS was the dream.

Vegeta still had doubts. Yet. She HAD offered. And she was warm. Curvy. And she had some sass in her after all. He thought of the pink shirt she'd made him wear yesterday with a cynical twist in his smile.

Bulma held her breath as Vegeta leaned in close, his hard lips touching hers. She didn't make him ask, but parted her lips and he swept inside her defenses like a wildfire.

The wall was hard at her back, and Vegeta burned like a furnace in front of her. All the world faded away as he took possession of her mouth. Had she thought the kiss in her dream was hot? It had nothing on reality!

Fire ate at her blood as she let sensation take over.

.III

Vegeta waited. He sunk into the woman's warmth and generous mouth with all the need that months alone could give a man. Added to that was the emotional burden of nearly being the last of his race, and then there was the image in his head ...a vague, formless image of a child.

And still he waited. For the blow. The slap. The bite. The beginning of the Saiyan courtship. It all started with a female wanting a kiss, and then the male had to accept. Then came the fight. The inevitable fight for dominance.

Warm arms suddenly wrapped around his neck and the woman in his arms leaned into him. Not a battle stance, but a call to mating. She was giving him the dominance. The maleness in him roared with approval.

The thinking portion of Vegeta's brain stalled. Then he groaned and picked Bulma up, not even sure where he was going to take her. Only that he WAS going to take her.

That was when he realized ...she was pushing him away.

.III

Bulma was sure she was blushing from her head all the way down to her toes.

That was a KISS? She panted a moment, trying to catch her breath. And really? Vegeta of all people? And in front of poor Yamcha? Just what in the world was she thinking.

That was when she made a big mistake. "Yamcha?" She called out softly. "Are you alright?"

.III

Vegeta was having a tough time pulling himself back from the edge of passion. He was almost seeing red even as he obeyed Bulma's pushing of him away. The woman always called the shots during courtship. Until the mating. Then the male was in charge. It was just the way things were.

That's when he heard her speak. The name of another man.

Damn it all! Bulma did know about Saiyan courtship! Including the pairing off of rival males to see who would be the stronger warrior.

Vegeta grinned eagerly and turned to face Yamcha, who took one look at the Saiyan's face and yelped in abject fear. He wasn't going to die at the hands of the Red Ribbon Army, he was going to die right here!

.III

Bulma screamed as half her wall disappeared in a cloud of smoke and debris. Puar whimpered and fainted as Yamcha scrambled, barely having dodged the main attack.

"Run little human." Sneered the Saiyan Prince.

"Vegeta, no! Don't!" Bulma grabbed the warrior from behind, wrapping her arms around him as Yamcha struggled to get out the hole in the wall quickly.

The Saiyan warrior paused, liking the feel of the woman plastered against his back. His woman. She'd offered, he'd accepted. Initial courtship had now officially begun. And he watched Yamcha scramble away like he should. Rival gone.

He turned within her arms and Bulma swallowed hard as she stared into his dark gaze.

All she could think of was ...now what?


	2. Misunderstandings

Bulma could barely breathe as she stared incredulously into Vegeta's intense gaze. She wasn't sure what to do next! What was there to say? Something like, 'oh hey - you're a better kisser than I ever dreamed about?'. No! Or how about, 'thank you for not killing my boyfriend?'. Definitely not!

And was Yamcha even still her boyfriend? He'd said aloud ... to the Saiyan Prince no less ...that the two of them were broken up. Not to mention that she'd agreed with that. Out loud! But the two of them had broken up and then made up so often, did it really count?

Vegeta slowly blinked and the young woman finally sucked in a deep breath, released for only a second. Not that he was actually holding her with his eyes or anything like that. It was just THAT intense.

As for her relationship status, maybe she should move it to 'single'. Vegeta certainly seemed to think she was!

She watched as he very slowly raised one arm, letting his hand come nearer and nearer to her cheek. The devastatingly drawn-out motion made her lungs seize up again. Bulma waited for the touch. Her eyelids fluttered as she leaned slightly forward, towards him as if he were truly magnetic.

But there was no touch.

Confused, feeling strangely shaky and ...empty? Bulma opened her blue eyes. Vegeta was still there, of course, staring intensely at her neck. Her neck? Bulma frowned, her neck was not her best attribute! His hand was mere centimeters from touching her. But not moving. She frowned sharply.

As if sensing her look, his dark eyes rose to meet her gaze.

Again, it was getting hard to breathe! Bulma swayed slightly.

.III

Vegeta was on edge. So very close to the edge of his control. Why did the woman not move? Had his kiss been lacking? Had he miscalculated somehow?

The Earth woman had made the offer, allowing him to kiss her. The Saiyan male had accepted. Now she had to judge if the kiss was worthy of continuing into courtship.

Tradition demanded a response!

If she rejected him here and now, he'd have to find someplace else on Earth to train. He scowled at the thought, then let his facial expression ease as he sensed the woman drawing back slightly. Vegeta knew his pride would not let him stay here if she had found his advances unworthy of her.

Unworthy. The scowl returned. She was an Earth woman and he was a Saiyan Prince! How could she not find his kiss worthy? She should be on her knees thanking him for accepting her original offer.

This was taking too long!

The building tension between them suddenly released as the woman sneezed unexpectedly. The Saiyan blinked, unsure.

"Geez, Vegeta." Bulma huffed and stepped back away from him. "You're a bit hard on the furnishings." He watched as she reached for a tissue and waved her hand at the dusty debris that had once been a wall in her home.

Not an acceptance. He narrowed his eyes at her. Still ...not a rejection. Just what was the woman playing at? She wasn't a coward, toying with a Saiyan like she was. However, could it be stupidity? Did she not realize that she'd brought him to the edge of his control?

"What do you want?" His voice was dark and husky with need. There. An open-ended question that did not violate Saiyan courtship rituals. Not infringing upon her choice.

.III

Bulma swallowed hard. What DID she want? Another damned kiss! No. No. Yamcha? Bulma groaned, right now she would be hard pressed to even remember that she had a boyfriend. Or did she still have him? She opened her mouth, and then snapped it closed.

The young woman put her hands down on the desk, trying to focus on the debris. Right before her eyes was a half-burned picture. Yamcha. Baseball bat slung over one shoulder. His other arm was wrapped around ...emptiness. Her image had been destroyed. Erased.

She giggled nervously.

Was that a metaphor? Was the universe trying to tell her something? She put her hand over the smiling image of a happy Yamcha, wincing.

It had been so long since the two of them could claim to have more happy days than arguing days. Perhaps it was time to let the relationship go.

But that didn't mean starting a new one! Bulma resolved to turn around, tell Vegeta off for destroying her wall, and to make him clean it up.

"I'll tell you one thing, mister Prince of all Saiyans!" She spun around, squeaked and then jumped backwards so that she was now basically sitting on the desk behind her.

Vegeta had moved closer and she'd not even realized!

He cocked one disdainful eyebrow at her. "Oh?" The word was infused with arrogance, guaranteed to rile her temper.

She watched as he held up his hand once more. And she sighed as she saw he was moving slowly again. What was going on? He'd kissed her within an inch of her life, tried to kill her maybe-former boyfriend and now acted as if she were plagued or diseased and he was afraid to touch her!

Temper flared deep within her and she reached out and grabbed his hand.

"There now tough guy. So hard to touch a defenseless little girl?" She sneered, ignoring the fact that she'd never been defenseless and was hardly a little girl anymore. Bulma had deliberately ignored her last few birthdays. Except for the presents of course!

.III

Vegeta stilled. Her words and actions did not match. Was this an Earth thing?

He blinked and looked at his hand. She'd touched him first. A clear signal from the female. She'd deemed his kiss acceptable and was willing to take the next step.

He grinned darkly as his gaze turned devastatingly upon her.

Bulma's blue eyes went very, very wide.

.III

"Oh no you ..." Was all she was able to manage.

It was as if her touch had set him free. With movements so fast she couldn't follow them, Vegeta invaded her personal space once more. His hands moved to her knees and pushed them apart as he stepped in between her thighs as she sat on the desk.

Before she could protest, though, his hands had moved to cup her rear end and she squeaked. But had no where to escape as the warrior pulled her inexorably toward him, bringing her flush with his own hard body.

Her mouth opened to tell him where to jump off, but found his mouth blocking hers. A groan escaped her as she felt herself being thoroughly kissed within an inch of her life.

Had she called that first kiss hot? Seemed she needed to redefine the term!

A breathy moan floated in the air and Bulma felt her skin go hot with embarrassment. That was her carrying on like that! Something stirred within her, something incredibly needy and empty. Something she hadn't felt in a long time. Something so basic that she hadn't even realized it was missing, and had been for years. Feeling guilty about Yamcha, Bulma tried to close her thighs.

Only to find the Saiyan Prince's hips blocking her. She only managed to lock her feet behind him, bringing the delicious pressure closer to where she needed it most.

No, no, no, no! This was wrong! Inner Bulma whimpered. But ...hadn't the Z fighter broken up with her? Inner Bulma faded as Vegeta came up for air and suddenly ripped the front of her dress from collarbone on down to her waist.

Shocked. Bulma didn't know what to do! And in those few precious moments, Vegeta surged ahead, his hands slipping inside the dress to find soft, exposed skin.

She arched her neck sharply and moaned even louder.

Hands settled on her bra, cupping the weight of her bosom as she felt his breath on the long expanse of her exposed neck.

Thumbs flicked against the peaks of her breasts and she squirmed against him, feeling the pressure from his own body's response rocking slightly against her heated core. He definitely wanted to be there. And ...Bulma shuddered with heated need. She wanted him there. Yes. Yes, she did.

Her hands cupped his shoulders as she arched her back, pushing her breasts into his hands. But it also took her mouth away from his.

Vegeta growled in protest. Making Bulma smile with delight.

His hands moved around to her back, leaving her chest feeling achy and needy. He jerked her closer once more.

She laughed with utter delight.

Then Vegeta bit her.

The sharp ache stunned her as she groaned. But it didn't hurt too badly. Bulma looked down at what she could see of his head, where he had his teeth in the ultra soft skin at the base of her neck. Right above her pulse.

Saiyan's were rough. Bulma sighed, tightening her legs around his hips. She frowned slightly. Why had he stopped moving?

As quickly as it had started, it was over. Bulma yelped as he tore himself away from her. Blinking at the sudden change, the young woman groaned. "Vegeta?"

.III

The Saiyan Prince glared at her as if it were all her fault. And it was, he decided frantically. She'd initiated the courtship ritual of his people! It was all her fault!

"Vegeta?" Her voice was husky, the need to continue was evident in her tone. The need. For him.

He actually stepped toward her for a second before he managed to stop. He scowled. "I will not apologize." His voice was gravelly and rough, his pride unbending.

Vegeta watched as Bulma straightened up with as much dignity as she could muster. She slid from the desk to stand on her feet and clutched the front of her dress together. "I don't recall asking you to apologize."

The Saiyan paused. Did she not realize he'd breached the traditions? He'd bitten her for goodness sakes! A sign of clear domination in the relationship. Something no Saiyan female would have accepted on the first day of courtship!

Until after the mating the woman was dominate. Always. But once she'd taken him into her bed then it changed. Then she was the mate and he was the male. But now? Now he was the seeker and she was the one deciding his worth.

He frowned. Then again, they couldn't move on to the next phase of courtship. The fighting. Bulma was an Earth female and not even a fighter. Vegeta scowled darkly. Tradition didn't have an answer for this!

Bulma stalked up to him while he was lost in thought. She slapped him.

He watched, incredulously as she cradled her stinging hand, her bottom lip poking out. "That hurt!" She whined.

No it hadn't. Vegeta's scowl disappeared as he sighed. This wasn't going to work. She was too far from being a Saiyan female. Yet ...his eyes fell to the long line of flesh that her torn dress couldn't hide.

The Saiyan's nostrils flared. Phermones. Hers. She wanted him. And suddenly his palms were itching. But ...he couldn't move on from the Saiyan traditions. "I bit you." The words fell like hard bricks to the earth as he gritted his teeth and pointed out the obvious.

Bulma shrugged slightly, feeling the sting and pull from that bite. Glancing down at it she looked over at a still-standing wall with a mirror. She checked out the bite and realized he hadn't broken the skin, but there would be a very dark bruise. A very dark bruise. One that would show. She frowned slightly, more upset that it thrilled her than she was about the actual bruise.

And deep inside, she was ecstatic that the big bad villain was upset that he'd hurt her even slightly. What reservations she had melted. He couldn't be all bad if he cared about the fact that he'd bruised her, right?

"Well now." Bulma cocked her head slightly. "Want to bite the other side?"

Vegeta's eyes bulged slightly and she laughed as she rose up on tiptoes, putting her hands on his shoulders. "Or should I give you a matching one?"

The Saiyan stared at her, unsure. She smiled back at him, letting him know with her gaze that she wasn't angry.

"Woman ..." The word was long and dragged out, a warning.

She smiled, not having been serious about marking his neck. Just wanting to ease his obvious embarrassment.

So it was with shock that she watched as Vegeta undid some of his armor and slowly pulled it off over his head. Her breath caught at the sight of his bare chest. All those muscles! And the shoulders went on forever!

A scar on one shoulder made her frown as she reached out tentatively and traced the line of the old wound.

Something in Vegeta loosened. She may not be Saiyan, but she was showing proper respect for battle scars like a true warrior woman should. Perhaps she was the best choice after all. And being this close to her he could look down the long tear in her dress and see the peek-a-boo that her breasts were playing with him, even with them all covered in ridiculous lace.

Bulma looked up at him and saw where his gaze had settled. Her face flamed. What in the world was she doing? All she'd asked for was a kiss, not ...not ...this!

Yet. While his gaze showed admiration for her curves, he wasn't grabbing. Wasn't pawing. No. She caught her breath. He was waiting for her! Who knew the Saiyan had a gentlemanly streak down deep inside!

.III

If the woman didn't touch him soon, Vegeta was sure he was going to tear the house apart. And maybe even the whole town. Why was she torturing him so?

Release him, or take him. Those were the only two choices a female Saiyan had. The fact that Bulma wasn't a Saiyan at all somehow slipped away from him as he sat on the edge of his control.

His whole body ached. It had been too long since he'd had a sexual release. Not to mention, the pressure of suddenly finding himself the last of the Royal lineage, and nearly the last of his entire species. And there was the question of an heir. A son.

This turquoise haired virago was toying with him. He growled. Then stopped, he'd bent traditions too far as it was. How could he have bitten her? But the scent of her skin had pulled and tugged at him, and the desire had been so great!

He watched, cautiously and viciously keeping his body in check despite the desire to pick the woman up and throw her on the nearest surface. He wanted to hunt and pounce. Take and conquer. Only supreme will power held him in check. Barely.

.III

Bulma smiled softly. A gentleman. A warrior and a gentleman. Who would have guessed? Not her.

She looked up into his gaze, and suddenly felt a little uneasy. There was violence in his eyes. Yet, he wasn't moving, not an inch.

Was he waiting on her? For what?

She stepped away from him and his nostrils flared, but he made no move to stop her. Bulma paused. He'd let her go. That fact alone thrilled her. He wasn't possessive and jealous over every little thing like Yamcha.

Knowing she could leave at any time, made Bulma want to stay. But how to let Vegeta know it was all okay? She shook her head slightly and felt the tug and pull of the bruise he'd left marking her skin. She smiled darkly.

Oh yes, that would work.

She stepped back up to the Saiyan Prince and reached up, tugging on his shoulder slightly. He didn't move and she frowned. Finally he grunted and bent his head toward her.

Bulma put one hand on his shoulder and the other on his head, pushing only a little to create some room at the spot where it mirrored her own neck.

She sensed that he'd stopped breathing. Smiling at the power she had over the big tough guy, she leaned in and licked the spot with her tongue.

Vegeta scowled, his muscles aching with the need to move, to possess.

Bulma laughed and opened her mouth, bringing her teeth down on his skin, scraping the flesh only barely. Not a bite.

He shivered. Power ran through her. Bulma bit down just barely enough to mark him slightly, not nearly like he had done to her though. Not even close.

She leaned back to smile up at him, and never made it.

Bulma screeched as suddenly she was thrown over one shoulder and then they were flying.

.III

Vegeta grinned darkly. The courtship was over. They'd done it ass-backwards, but it didn't really matter.

She'd bitten his neck. The neck he'd offered to her. They were now mates and she was through calling the shots. It was his turn now.

The intricate dance of submission and dominance was complete. During the courtship the women held all the cards and all the power. And even though she was supposed to bite him first, to show her power over him, and then offer up her own neck to his dominance ...well, it hardly mattered. They'd done it the wrong way around, but she'd accepted him.

And he wanted a son.

With that, he picked up his new bride and threw her over his shoulder to take her back to his room. Their room.

Now things were as they should be. He smiled at the screeching woman he was carrying and ran one hand down her backside.

He was going to get a son. Vegeta grinned darkly. And he was going to have fun doing it. How much better could it get?

.III

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well? I hope you are enjoying!


	3. Mine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This fic is labeled as explicit for a reason ...fair warning ....

Bulma screeched and pummeled Vegeta's back with her fists, and although he was bare chested from removing his armor, it was if he didn't feel her attacks at all.

Worse? His opposite hand was on her ass! Petting her! As if he had a perfect right!

"Put me down your arrogant jerk!" The young woman tried to kick but was in a poor position to really do any damage and she knew it.

It did earn her poor ass a smack though, one that stung! Bulma screamed at the top of her lungs, absolutely furious beyond belief. She wouldn't have been surprised if actual steam had come out of her ears!

And here she'd been thinking that Vegeta had been behaving like a gentleman just a few moments ago! How wrong could one genius-level girl get?

.III

Vegeta eyed his room. It suited him perfectly. It was very sparse and held mostly training equipment. And a cot. He eyeballed his sleeping cot and it's blanket. He remembered Bulma's mother being very upset when he'd ordered the nice comfortable spare bedroom suite out of the room.

At the time he'd been thinking of training, not son-making. Vegeta gave a squeeze to the fine ass under his right hand and then grinned darkly at the responding yelp coming from his mate.

Then he looked at the cot again. This would not do. They would break that thing in under five seconds, the two of them.

"Woman? What size bed do you have?" Vegeta asked, anxious to get on with it.

Bulma apparently was ignoring him or was too worked up to respond. All he got was a knee in the ribs, but the woman had no leverage and the blow was pitiful compared to the fights he was used to having with various enemies.

"Woman?" Vegeta gave her a jostle, making her screech louder. But still no answer. Pfft. Fine. He knew basically the layout of the house and turned to head back down toward his mate's bedroom. Even if her bed was small, it had to be sturdier than his utility cot.

His mate should appreciate the effort he was going to for her comfort.

.III

Bulma fumed and plotted, discarding one impossible plan after another. While reducing the stupid man to a pile of ashes with a ray gun was tempting, first she wasn't sure it would even make a dent in the Saiyan warrior and second? She didn't happen to have one on her.

What did she have? His bare back. She'd tried scratching him, but it didn't even seem to distract him. Bulma looked down and for a second actually admired Vegeta's tight buns as he carried her around, but the moment he squeezed her ass again she bit down and ground her teeth.

"Think girl, think!" She murmured to herself.

Bulma had seen some of Vegeta's fighting up close, but mostly when on Namek she'd missed a lot of the action. Which was good, actually. Except she didn't know any of his weaknesses!

Light bulb. Or did she? Bulma's eyes narrowed. How had Vegeta been defeated on Earth? HIS TAIL! A definite weakness. Then she sagged, but the tail was gone. She was definitely in an unique position to verify that!

Bulma eyed the tapering of delicious muscles down into his tight uniform pants. Hmmm? Deliberately her hands moved down his back and under the band. Yes. No tail, but a healed spot where the stump had healed. Barely anything there really. Rounded skin barely marring the smooth expanse of his backside. The man could no longer turn into a giant rampaging monkey, but she wondered, was this certain spot still his weakness?

For a second she hesitated, unsure what reaction she was going to get. Then she pressed down hard on the healed area, pushing in hard with her thumbs and waited.

.III

Vegeta was half way to Bulma's room, actually glad that her parents where out of town for the week at some conference. Not that he cared what they saw, but he knew Bulma would probably care a lot.

Moving swiftly, eager to bed his new mate, he barely registered her hands moving low down his back. It's not like she'd not been trying to scratch or hit him ever since he'd grabbed her. Which was perfectly normal for a Saiyan female, though a woman of his species would have been able to do some actual damage. Vegeta chuckled at her vain attempts to gain his attention. Just a few more moments and she'd have his FULL attention!

Three steps from her bedroom door he had a moment of registering that her hand was near where his tail had once been. He frowned. She dug in her thumbs to that one certain place and pushed hard. Vegeta saw red.

He roared out in shock and awe as his knees actually buckled.

.III

Bulma screeched again, but this time in shock as the big bad warrior and Prince of all Saiyans stumbled for just a small moment.

Fear made her stiffen up, had she actually hurt him?

Vegeta caught his balance, slapped her ass hard enough to sting and kicked down her bedroom door.

Bulma yelped. "Hey! It was unlocked you jerk!"

Suddenly she found herself airborne and landing on the bed with a small bounce or two. She eyed the furious warrior standing in her bedroom, hands on his hips and feet planted widely apart. Bulma swallowed hard.

"You ARE a good choice!" He informed her roughly. "A warrior in spirit if not in body!"

Bulma paused. He wasn't furious! The damnable man was turned on! His words had sounded like he was actually proud of her and she was distraught to find that she actually smiled back at him, pleased at the words! No! No, this would not do!

"Prince Vegeta! What in the world are you thinking?" She sputtered, trying to regain her mental balance.

Taking her question at face value, the Saiyan grinned purposefully. "I'm thinking your bed looks bigger and more comfortable than mine."

Bulma gave a chirp of surprise, her hand rising up to cover her mouth as she stared at him wide-eyed. Bed? Finally everything clicked into place. She looked down at her familiar comforter and then around the bedroom where she'd lived in her whole life.

The pillows on her bed were down, and very fluffy. The bed was wide and just the right firmness for her. The comforter was girly with a floral pattern. The entire bedroom was a mixture of her past and present, full of little-girl treasures and big-girl projects. Cluttered, but clean. She desk was covered in metallic do-dads and widgets for various projects, right next to the dolls that Yamcha had won for her at a local fair.

Yamcha.

Bulma's eyes flew to her nightstand involuntarily. Several pictures of her long-time boyfriend stared back at her, smiling from happier times. She caught her breath as she turned to stare at Vegeta. He too was staring at the pictures of the young Z fighter, only ...he wasn't smiling.

Before she could even mouth the word 'no', the Saiyan was across the room as he grabbed each and every picture and was heading toward her window. Bulma scrambled after him, catching his arm as he threw the window open with the grating sound of protesting wood.

"Vegeta, don't!" Bulma yelled as the Saiyan prince threw her pictures of Yamcha out the second story window. For a second, the young woman nodded, okay ...okay, she could just go down and get them. The frames or glass might be broken, but the pictures ...

Suddenly she gave a shrill cry as energy blasts from Vegeta's fingers disintegrated the images from her past.

.III

The Saiyan warrior felt a sense of peace watching the image of his rival disappear forever. He'd actually like to do that to the real Yamcha, but had a sneaking suspicion that his new mate would not be pleased with that. And while he didn't mind riling her, he did want her happy and healthy enough for giving him a child.

She should be thanking him. Not tugging on his arm and screeching in his ear. Vegeta sighed, turned and picked up his new mate, sitting her on the side of the bed.

He was pleased when she finally fell silent.

.III

Bulma stared at the veritable stranger standing in her bedroom. Her bedroom! Acting like ...a ...she paused ...a jealous boyfriend? Everything sort of clicked into place. Suddenly she giggled. The big bad man didn't want her looking at pictures of Yamcha? The Saiyan Prince was JEALOUS!

One kiss from her and he was that far enamored of her? Wow!

Fear melted into pride and a sense of womanly power.

.III

Vegeta paused, watching the fear melt away from his mate's face as she gave him a lopsided smile. He grunted. Yes. This was the woman for him.

"Slow down there, buddy." She crooned at him.

The Saiyan grunted. Not likely. He was ready. She was ready. The bed was right there.

Before he could move, Bulma stood up in front of him, but he'd not moved backwards so there was little to no room. She was nearly plastered to his body. Her breasts pushed pleasurably against his bare chest. Vegeta felt his eyes go wide.

Was this the same woman who'd been kicking and screaming at him while he'd been carrying her? With a shake of his head, he realized she was still talking.

"While my kiss may have been ...tempting." She smiled. "It was not an open invitation to ..."

He tuned her back out. Vegeta shook his head and interrupted her. "Enough talking."

Bulma narrowed her eyes at him, her mouth turning into a frown.

Vegeta put both hands on the side of her head and turned her face up to his. He leaned in and when she didn't open her mouth to him, took her bottom lip gently between his teeth and tugged. He felt the blush building up in his mate's cheeks and grunted in pleasure at the small victory.

She wasn't talking now.

Her hands came up to hold onto his forearms, but she wasn't tugging at him. She wasn't trying to make him stop.

Vegeta's tongue came out to trace the line of her lips and this time her mouth opened for him. He groaned with approval and took sure advantage, sinking into the generous warmth of her mouth.

.III

Bulma couldn't help it! He was so damned hot! And his kisses! Melting! Burning! Not sophisticated but not tentative either. The Prince kissed arrogantly, almost roughly, but with a neediness that she could not resist.

Thoughts and protests faded from her mind as she flexed her fingers into the iron-strong muscles of his forearms, grateful he had a hold of her so that she wouldn't melt away into a puddle at his feet.

Before she'd thought about it, before she could form a protest in her own mind, Bulma felt her hands travel up the line of hot skin from his forearms to cup the balls of his shoulders. She clung there, pulling him closer.

And he obliged her. His hands fell from her head and grabbed her around the back, pulling her tightly into his body. Then one hand traveled lower, coming to rest on the soft firmness of her rear end.

Bulma gasped against his mouth as she felt him press their hips closer together, where she could feel the prominent ridge of the proof his his desire for her, pressing demandingly against her.

For a moment, she waited. Waited for him to grab, toss and pounce. He was a warrior after all. Arrogant and used to getting his way. But his kisses seemed to go on forever. It was she that made the first move toward the bed.

Tugging at him as she sat back on the mattress behind her. He grunted with obvious approval and let her lay back on the bed, her legs still hanging over the side.

In this position her torn dress gaped, giving him tantalizing looks at her lace covered breasts.

Bulma watched, amused as he turned to sit next to her on the bed, tugging on his boots. She bit her lip with amusement as he scowled and cursed under his breath when the boot didn't pop off straight away.

She sat back up, scooting to the head of the bed and watched him with eager eyes. He glanced at her and sneered. She giggled and pushed the sides of the dress off her shoulders.

Vegeta's eyes widened in appreciation and the boot suddenly flew across the room knocking over her stuffed bear, quickly followed by the second boot.

Bulma couldn't believe she was doing this! She was not someone to be considered 'easy'. She'd had one serious boyfriend in her life. One. And it felt extremely disloyal to be THIS turned on by someone else. But she loved the effect she was having on the mighty Saiyan warrior. Reveled in the heated pleasure it brought her to watch him stalk her across the bed to grab her ankle and tug her down so she was flat on her back, staring up at him.

"Hello there." She cooed at him with a smile.

She watched as he scowled down at the lacy bra she was still wearing. "It hooks in back." She said helpfully, starting to arch upwards to give him access.

Vegeta grunted, hooked one finger in the center of the bra where there was a tiny red flower. With barely any effort, he tore it completely through.

Bulma sighed, mentally saying goodbye to her bra, one of her favorites. But the thought was lost as she saw the pleased look in Vegeta's eyes as he looked down on her.

"Mine." He said gruffly, before leaning in and taking one breast deep into his mouth.

The young woman had a moment's pause as she wondered at how possessive he'd sounded. But the feeling of warning dissipated as she felt the tugging sensation of his mouth suckling her. Her arms wrapped around his shoulders, pulling him closer as her blood heated to impossible temperatures.

Breathing was becoming less than automatic as her lungs struggled, panting as she arched her neck and pressed her chest up toward him in supplication.

By the time she caught her breath, he'd divested her of the rest of the torn dress and was hooking his fingers into the sides of her underpants.

More warning bells, but these too faded as her hips lifted to allow Vegeta to tug off the last scrap of her clothing. Suddenly, she felt exposed. Without defenses. Almost helpless.

The Saiyan Prince had let go of her breast and was staring down at her nude body. Bulma held her breath. His eyes looked up to meet hers. Admiration and lust glowed out of his dark eyed gaze and she could breathe again. "Mine." He repeated and she nodded automatically, not really agreeing with his statement though.

"You're mine." She told him breathlessly. And he was hers, for tonight anyway.

Vegeta nodded in approval and reached down to push off his uniform pants.

Bulma had a second or two without his gaze on her to wonder at all the possessive wording, but she'd seen enough movies to know men said crap like that all the time.

Only ...Vegeta never seemed to say anything he didn't mean. He was a very blunt man.

She opened her mouth to ask, only to let her lips fall slack into an 'oh' of approval as Vegeta turned back to her, nude and impressive to say the least.

Her mouth suddenly dry, Bulma licked her lips.

The warrior's body was sculpted out of conflict, training, and necessity. Wide shoulders, lean hips, a few scars here and there only lent an edge of violence and virility to him. And the root of him jutted out toward her in an impressive display that had her eyes going really wide.

How was this going to work? The physics portion of her brain shorted out as her Saiyan Prince rolled on top of her, resting between the thighs she'd just parted for him. A blush took her face and spread down to her collarbone.

Had she ever felt this eager before? She pushed the thought away as unworthy of her.

Vegeta stared down at her like she was a prize that he'd somehow won. Bone deep possession stared down at her, but all thoughts of protest disappeared from her mind as he leaned over her.

"Your neck." The words were a grumble so rough she barely understood. And apparently she didn't move fast enough for him.

His head came down and nuzzled it's way between her shoulder and neck, right over her pulse. All of this was happening even as he positioned himself down below.

What was it with her neck? Bulma wondered just before he set his teeth back into the sensitive skin there, right at the same time as he surged inside her, right to the very core of her being. Vegeta took her and Bulma's eyes closed as she moaned, pushing up into him as he drove down deep to very impressive depths.

She screamed as he moaned. His hands roamed over her, but his teeth stayed in her neck as his hips began an ages old rhythm that drove her to the brink of insanity. Powerful thrusts pushed against her as she wrapped her legs and arms around the Saiyan Prince.

Her fingernails dug into the skin of his back as he rode her.

Bulma felt the edge of release chasing her as she spiraled to depths of pleasure she hadn't known existed. Shudders overtook her as her body nearly exploded. She screamed as she came, clawing at Vegeta's back, pushing her hips up at him demandingly.

But the Saiyan Prince kept on, never stopping. Bulma was unaware of herself for a few moments, but when she was finally able to think again, she moaned. He was still going! Powerful thrusts made her moan and cry out. Seemed Vegeta had a lot of staying power! Bulma smiled weakly, though she felt spent.

Wanting him with her, she pushed up against him with her hips some more, squeezing her internal muscles around his invading flesh. She was rewarded for her efforts with several groans, and Vegeta's rhythm grew faster and more ragged.

After a few more strokes, Bulma was amazed to find that she had more in her after all! Pleasure began to build up again and her own breathing was becoming a panting as she clung to her Saiyan lover.

Her hands roamed his back and down lower. Fingers traced the small mound of raised flesh where his tail had been. But instead of digging her thumbs down into him to cause pain, she caressed.

Vegeta stilled for a second, then thrust even harder, making Bulma moan with pleasure. She could tell his breathing was becoming ragged and sensed he was close.

Raising her knees made Bulma gasp herself, he was going so deep! She squeezed internally at the same time she pressed slightly on the place low on his back.

Vegeta's teeth left her neck as he threw back his head and roared in victory. Bulma felt him spasm inside her and it was enough to send her over the edge for the second time herself.

Long moments later, sweaty and replete, the two collapsed together in a boneless pile upon her bed.

Bulma sighed happily, not even able to open her eyes at the moment. And to think, all she'd wanted to know is if Vegeta was a good kisser! She nearly laughed, except that would have taken more energy than she currently possessed.

She felt Vegeta turn and look at her, one of his strong hands moving to rest on her chest, just below one breast. His fingers spread out as he touched her, rubbing the soft skin over her belly.

Bulma smiled, loving that he needed to touch her. It was a small thing, but very telling. He really was enamored with her. And she never would have guessed! Her pride made her smile. All the women in the galaxy and this Saiyan Prince was in HER bedroom. Holding her. It was a heady thought.

"What are you thinking?" Bulma asked. She waited for the inevitable compliment. Something about her skill as a lover, her body, or something. She smiled, waiting.

Vegeta didn't even hesitate as he answered truthfully, his fingers touching her belly. "I don't know much about Earth women. How long before you can tell if you're pregnant with my son?"

Bulma's eyes went wide with shock.


	4. Mates

"Oh my! It sure is good to see someone with such a healthy appetite!" The curly-haired blond smiled happily, even clapping slightly. "Although he's hungrier than usual. I suppose you were training extra special hard last night?"

Bulma rolled her eyes at her clue-less mother and yawned. She glared at Vegeta who was currently gulping down food like there was no tomorrow. Pancakes, porridge, and eggs enough to fill a barn! Every time a dish emptied, her own mother would plop down a fresh plate.

"It's good you called me home for this 'emergency' darling!" Cooed the ditzy blond. "He is SO hungry today!"

Sighing, Bulma slumped in her chair, clutching the edges of her robe together protectively and tugging at her curls to help cover her bruised neck. "This isn't the 'emergency' I had in mind." She muttered disgustedly.

A pause in the eating. Bulma looked over at Vegeta. Had he heard?

The Saiyan belched and then started eating again, with renewed vigor.

Bulma closed her eyes and wondered if anyone would notice if she burst into tears.

"Oh dear!" Gasped her mother. "Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear!"

Bulma looked up to see her mother almost literally running in circles, picking up various objects. An empty dish, a used serving spoon, an un-used napkin. Finally she dipped the napkin in cold water and rushed her daughter.

"You've hurt yourself? Did you fall?" Bulma's mother dabbed delicately at the bruised flesh on her daughter's neck that to anyone else would have been instantly recognizable as a sizable hickey. "A second emergency! Should I call your father, dear?"

Vegeta even paused a moment at the word 'hurt' then smirked when he saw the proof of his dominance on his mate's skin. Without a word he went back to eating.

"I hate you all." Bulma gritted out the words from between her teeth, her eyes nearly crossing from the effort not to scream. What in the world had possessed her to call her mother anyway? Desperation? It's not like she could call Goku or Yamcha for this of all things! All of her friends seemed to be males, and ...and ... "I need a shower."

The young woman stomped off with all the delicacy of a water buffalo and steaming with temper.

The blond scratched her head. "Was it something I said?"

Vegeta finished off another bowl of food and reached for the next.

.III

Bulma let the hot water stream off her body in the shower. Tears pricked her eyes as she sighed deeply. It should only be so simple to wash the memories of the previous night from her mind.

What in the world had happened? She'd just had mind-blowing sex with one sexy Saiyan Prince. Okay. Not bad in itself. But then there was the fact that she was supposed to be dating Yamcha! Only, they had sort of broken up.

What next? Oh yes. Learning that the Saiyan Prince in question wasn't interested in her, only in getting a son and heir. Yep. That was something NOT to forget. She could have been anyone, anyone at all. It probably didn't matter at all to him. A warm body. That's all she was to him.

And then there was Yamcha, who would never forgive her. Never. Nor should he. Bulma groaned, letting her head drop forward so the water washed down her back. Deliberately she turned her head slightly so that the water hit directly on the spot where Vegeta had marked her. Dratted male!

And what was the biting all about anyway? Bulma squeezed her eyes tighter, somehow horribly sure that it was some sort of symbol of domination. Ownership. But what about when he'd seemed to want her to bite him? That wasn't the same thing. Bulma opened her blue eyes and rolled her shoulders slightly. Maybe she was looking at it all wrong.

.III

Vegeta sighed in contentment. He was full of decent food. His new bride was upstairs and possibly pregnant. And he was about to go train for a fight of tremendous proportions. One that might leave him dead. The Saiyan smiled. Life couldn't get sweeter.

"You eat nearly as much as Goku!" Bubbled the blond next to him.

The Prince frowned. "Nearly? Nearly as much?" The frown turned into a snarl. "Bring me a dozen more bowls, woman!"

Bulma's mother clapped her hands in delight. "So nice to have a man around to enjoy good cooking!" And as soon as I let Bulma know her young man is visiting the next batch of food will be ready to serve!"

Vegeta went very, very still. "Her young man?"

.III

Bulma's eyes popped open wide as she heard the bathroom door open behind her. It had to be her mother. It had to be. Please let it be ...

"WOMAN!"

Blue eyes shut with despair. "I'm taking a shower." She snapped at him, irrate.

The shower door clicked open and a furious looking Vegeta glared at her. "I know that, or I wouldn't be looking for you in here! Now, get out of the cleaning stall!"

Shrieking, Bulma tried to use her hands to cover exposed portions of her body. Only she didn't have enough hands!

"Did you sneak out and call that ...that ...puling weakling?" Vegeta's voice was harsh.

Temper flaring, Bulma stopped hiding her body and planted her fists on her hips, glaring at the male invading her privacy. "Yamcha?" She guessed.

"So you admit he's a weakling!" Vegeta yelled in triumph.

Bulma grabbed her towel and wrapped it around herself, disregarding the still pounding shower water. "I do not, I'll only admit that you would call him one!"

"So, you did call him last night!" The Saiyan snarled.

Bulma shook her head. "Idiot! I have not called him and I don't sneak around!"

Vegeta leaned against the door of the shower, and gave her a once-over look. "You snuck out of our bed to call your mother home for an 'emergency'. I take it that I'm that 'emergency'."

Damn! He had been listening! Bulma blushed.

"Then why did he come by this morning?" Vegeta threw the question at her.

"Because he's my friend!" She yelled back at him, hoping that she was telling the truth and that she'd not ruined her friendship forever.

Vegeta shook his head in denial, rolling his lip as if smelling something rotten. "Not anymore. I told him you were my mate and he should leave you alone."

Bulma dropped her mouth open in shock. "You did what? You have no right ...wait! He was here? You saw him?" She suddenly felt sick to her stomach remembering the charred remains of Yamcha's pictures on the front lawn. "Is ...is ...he alive?" Her voice dropped in fear.

"I did not kill him, if that is what you're asking, woman." The Saiyan actually yawned. "But if he drops over and dies of fear that is not something I can control."

Hanging on to the fact that Yamcha was still alive, Bulma swallowed hard. "Why would he die of fear?"

"Because he's a weakling. Weren't you listening, mate?" Vegeta shook his head. "And I told him I'd kill him if he came around again."

"Yamcha isn't a coward." Bulma denied absently, knowing that the young Z fighter wasn't the bravest of their group. "I can't believe you did that."

"A mate should not call her former companion." Vegeta snapped back at her, then shook his head in disdain. "And you've soaked through that drying cloth."

Bulma shrugged. "It's a towel Vegeta. A towel. On Earth we don't call it a drying cloth."

"It's what it is." The Saiyan brushed off the lesson with a wave of his hand. He eyed the clinging towel appreciatively.

Bulma held up one hand as if to stop him, though her Prince hadn't actually moved toward her. "Don't you even think it."

"Too late." Vegeta grinned and stuck out one hand, snagging the towel with his forefinger. "I liked the view better without this drying cloth in the way."

"Towel." She corrected automatically, tugging on the cloth to keep him from pulling it from her. She was losing. "Vegeta! Stop this!"

The Saiyan tugged harder, pulling the towel from her nude body. He grinned. "Why? We're already mated."

"Yes. We had sex, I'll admit it!" Bulma steamed. "But that doesn't mean you own me."

Vegeta shrugged and pulled off his shirt, tossing it on the floor behind him.

Bulma's mouth went dry as she tried to remember all the reasons this was a BAD idea!

"I pleased you." Vegeta stated firmly, no question in his mind.

Gulping down air, Bulma managed a nod. It's not like she could deny that!

"You pleased me." He continued, snagging her hand to drag her out of the cleaning stall.

Oh yes. Bulma's eyes snapped into a glare. "I pleased you?"

Her sudden turn of temper confused him. He'd just complimented his mate. This was a problem, how? Vegeta glared back at her.

"I PLEASED YOU?" She screeched. "You just want a son!" The young woman pushed at him, coming out of the shower as nude as the day she was born.

"I could have been anyone! Any female capable of carrying a child. It didn't matter to you who I was or anything!" She was on a roll now!

Vegeta though didn't like being yelled at. He spun her around, picked her up and flew-bounced into the bedroom, tossing her on the bed.

Bulma squealed. "You have to stop doing that!"

"You're my mate!" He roared at her.

"This is not how to treat someone you're mating!" Bulma yelled back and kicked at him, though she came no where close to striking him.

"I do if she calls another man into her life!" The Saiyan growled, glaring at her harshly.

Bulma stilled. "I didn't call him." She said almost gently. It was a huge moment as she realized with sudden clarity, the Saiyan was jealous. "I only called my mother."

Vegeta blinked at her, his temper banking only slightly. "He showed up here today."

Bulma shrugged. "We fought yesterday. And he left me here with you ...kissing me. He was probably just checking on me."

"I would never hurt my mate."

Bulma frowned. Mate was another word for sex, but the Saiyan wasn't using it like that at all. It was almost like a title.

"He didn't know that." She said almost gently. "You weren't always on our side of things."

Vegeta frowned, his temper simmering down a bit lower. "He is your former companion."

"Boyfriend." Bulma said. "The Earth word is boyfriend."

The sneer returned. "He is nothing but a boy." He nodded in agreement.

Sighing, Bulma realized she'd probably never change Vegeta's mind on the subject. She watched as the Saiyan sat down on the side of the bed and started to remove his boots.

"What are you doing?" Bulma asked, pretty sure she already knew.

Vegeta didn't answer. His meeting with Yamcha had left him unsettled. He hadn't killed the young man as Saiyan law said you couldn't murder your mate's former companions. It would deplete the ranks of their warriors too much if they let that happen all the time.

But leaving the boy alive and calling on his mate ...rankled. Left him uneasy. What had she said in the small room with the cleaning stall? Any woman would do? He had to show her otherwise.

"Vegeta ...it was good, beyond good." Bulma grabbed her pillow and held it in front of her body, belatedly recalling her lack of clothing. "But ..." She swallowed wrong and started coughing as tears rushed to her eyes.

Coughing and sputtering, it took her a moment to catch her breath. When she looked up, he was nude. Magnificently nude.

"Oh my."

Vegeta frowned at her and crawled onto the bed, taking the pillow from her suddenly lax fingers. "Mine. My mate."

Bulma frowned, there was that word again. Before she could ask, the Saiyan's head was buried in the space between her neck and shoulder. She sighed. "If you keep biting me the hickey will turn permanent."

A muffled sound from him made her frown. It had sounded suspiciously like 'good'.

Before she could take another breath, however, his hands rose and settled on her hips, pushing her down onto the mattress.

Bulma thought about saying 'no' ...but really ...more mind blowing sex? It was just about enough to short out the logical parts of her brain.

Vegeta's mouth found hers in a drugging kiss as his hands traveled to cover her breasts. Suddenly, thinking was no longer even possible.

.III

Bulma groaned and shoved at the heavy male on top of her. She needed air!

Vegeta grunted and shifted his weight slightly, but it was just enough. She sighed and cuddled into his heat. A sound tickled the back of her brain. What was that?

"You left the water running in the cleaning stall."

"Shower."

"Whatever." Vegeta grumbled and tightened his arms around her, replete.

Bulma savored the moment and the strange feeling of utter safety she felt in her Saiyan's arms. Only, she knew it couldn't last. "We can't keep doing this."

Vegeta squeezed her slightly. "I don't see why not, mate."

"I'm not carrying your son." Bulma said very clearly. Needing to get it out there in the open.

But the Saiyan misunderstood. "Yet. You're not carrying him yet. And you said it would take at least six weeks to be sure." He yawned. "You've ruined me, woman. I should be training."

But the haze of sensuality fading left Bulma only with her bleak thoughts. "I am not some oven for you to play with. Find another female to carry your son."

Vegeta's dark eyes blinked open in confusion. He looked down at her and shook his head. "You would share me?"

Bulma paused, he had sounded as haughty as usual ...but he had gone all stiff. As if ...hurt?

"You only had sex with me to get a son." She bit her lip as her voice trembled slightly. How she hated looking weak in front of him.

However, Vegeta's stiffness vanished and he truly hugged her, if only for an instant. "Idiotic mate. You chose me and I accepted. Now we start a family. There will be no other companions for me. Or you." His voice hardened. "I will kill your 'friend' if he keeps pestering you."

Bulma's mind went blank. Too much. Too many questions suddenly raised. "Wait. What? I chose you?"

Vegeta nodded. "You asked me to kiss you."

Bulma nodded back. "True."

"I did so."

She grimaced wryly. "You did more than that."

Vegeta laughed. "Once you chose me, mate."

Bulma took a deep breath to steady herself. Then another. Finally she looked him in the eyes. "A drying cloth is called a towel. A cleaning stall is called a shower. Here on Earth that is. And you are not my companion..." It was a question.

"No." Vegeta growled. "We are mates."

The young woman felt the world spin around for an instant, leaving her dizzy. If companion equaled boyfriend then ... she shouldn't ask, she didn't want to know, not really. But she found the words spilling from her mouth anyway. "So the Saiyan word for mate means what ...on Earth, what does it mean here?"

Vegeta didn't even hesitate. "Wife."

.III

Bulma's mother was just about finished cleaning the kitchen when she heard an unholy scream from upstairs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well? Love to hear what you think. Hope you're enjoying!


	5. Tea and Sympathy

Bulma picked at her tiny garden sandwich with no signs of her usual appetite. She could almost feel her mother frown at her behind her back.

"Dear?" The blond chirped, standing behind her as she poured her daughter yet another cup of tea.

Bulma pushed aside her two untouched tea cups and made room for the third one without so much as a sigh.

Dr. Briefs looked up from his latest schematics to pick up one of the tea cups absently. Bulma watched as her father took a sip, then frowned. "My tea is cold." He said with a confused look.

Bulma shrugged. "That was my tea, Dad. Yours is over there."

Her father nodded, picked up his own tea cup and went back to reading over his notes on one of his newer projects not bothering to ask why her daughter had three tea cups. "Darling, I need your thoughts on these power sequences."

"And I want to thank you, Bulma. Those household cleaning-bots are working perfectly again!" The doctor's wife chimed in.

"I didn't fix them." Her daughter sighed, staring off at the huge round object on the spacious grounds of their home. "I told you that last week. And the week before."

Dr. Briefs held up some schematics. "The power sequences?"

The blond scratched her forehead in a charming move and beamed. "But your father says he didn't fix the cleaning-bots, so it had to be you, darling!"

Bulma sighed and stared at the gravity chamber that currently held her ...her ...she frowned. Not husband, no she wouldn't accept that. Her nemesis perhaps?

"Dad? What do you know about divorce law?" The turquoise-haired young woman mused aloud.

But Dr. Briefs was currently distracted. "The fluctuations in power ramp-up on these two sequences is just one mili-secs off and I can't configure the next phase until the ratio is correct!"

"Divorce law?" The blond frowned prettily. "Who's getting divorced, dear? It's too bad the couple can't make it work. Perhaps you should counsel them." She looked over at her husband. "Invite them to dinner. We could make a party! Hang mistletoe in the doorways so they have to kiss every few steps!" She clapped her hands in delight. "That'll end the divorce talk!"

Bulma sank lower into her seat and gritted her teeth. "It's summer, mother. We don't need mistletoe."

The blond pouted a moment. "But what other flowers could we hang to make them kiss and make up? Daisies? They're always so fresh and sweet looking!"

"No, daisies won't fix the sequencing problem." Dr. Briefs muttered, then realized what he'd said and shook his head as if slightly baffled about why he'd been thinking about flowers in the first place.

Bulma glared at the gravity chamber her father had built per Vegeta's instructions. Two weeks. Two weeks he'd been training nearly non-stop, only coming out for brief visits to eat.

In those brief times he'd glare at her and she'd glare at him. Then he'd ask her if she knew if she was pregnant yet. She would snap at him and then he'd ask if she'd figured out a way to divorce him yet. That's when he'd smirk, slap her on the ass and go back to training. It was enough to drive any woman insane.

She should never have told him she wanted a divorce. Bulma had figured that even if she had stumbled her away into the Saiyan mating ritual, leaving her married ...there had to be a way to divest herself of her new mate.

Only, he wasn't cooperating. No. Instead he was furious she even wanted out of the relationship and refused to listen to logic or reason. He'd ignored her pleas to explain Saiyan divorce proceedings and announced that since she found the mating rites on her own, she could find the dissolution rites on her own.

"I hear growling." Bulma's mother gasped, covering her mouth with one hand. "I wonder if a fox got onto the grounds. They are so pretty, but scary!"

Bulma managed to stop growling, but didn't disabuse her mother of the idea of a random animal on the grounds. It was better than having to explain why she was growling in the first place.

"They're not scary at all." The masculine voice coming from behind her froze Bulma in place.

Dr. Briefs looked up and smiled absently. "Yamcha, it's been a while."

Bulma felt the blush gracing her cheeks. A bit of the panic she'd been living with for the past two weeks started to fade.

"Would you like some tea?" Bulma's mother started to pour, and then frowned. "Oh dear, I'm out of tea!"

"Come on darling, let's leave these two out here alone." Dr. Briefs gathered up his notes and herded his wife back into the house.

Neither Bulma nor Yamcha said a word as the duo left them alone. Then the silence continued. Finally, Yamcha pulled out the chair vacated by her father and sat. "You going to look at me?"

Bulma cut her blue eyes over at the young man.

"I'm sorry." They both spoke at once, then stopped, embarrassed.

Bulma cleared her throat. "What are you sorry about?"

Yamcha shrugged. "I was giving you a hard time about that stupid dream you had. I deliberately tried to embarrass you in front of that jerk, and ..." He ran one hand through his hair. His shorter hair.

"Nice hair cut." She muttered.

"You kissed him." Yamcha said quietly.

Bulma blushed deeper. "He kissed me, actually." And it hadn't stopped there.

"We weren't together, really." The former-bandit offered her the out.

"I still shouldn't have let him." Bulma acknowledged.

Yamcha looked around. "He threatened to kill me. Made it sound like he owned you because of one kiss."

Bulma's face heated up and the blush went all the way down to her collarbone.

The young man gritted his teeth. "Not just one kiss, then." It was a statement, not a question.

She looked away toward the gravity chamber. "He says we're married now."

Yamcha nearly fell out, his jaw dropping nearly to his knees. "M...m...married?"

"In the Saiyan custom. I didn't know that was what was happening." Bulma couldn't meet his eyes.

Her long-time off and on again boyfriend compressed his lips together for a long moment, then shook his head. "Did you sleep with him?"

Many times. But she didn't say it aloud. But the lack of a denial spoke volumes.

Yamcha stood up and shook himself off. "So. I guess there's nothing more to say."

"I'm looking for a way to end the Saiyan marriage." Bulma said softly. "There's got to be a way to get divorced."

The young man nodded. "But ...that doesn't mean we'll ever be the same."

Bulma finally looked at him. "All of this only shows us that it was time for us to move on, both of us." She took a deep breath. "We've been more off again than on again for a long time now."

"I never kissed another woman." He slipped the verbal dagger in with a cynical twist of his mouth.

An irritating buzz in the air made Bulma wave one hand in front of her face, she didn't like bugs. "I know that, Yamcha."

"I brought some more tea my dears!" Bulma's mother fairly glided over the ground with a tray of freshly made tea. "And I have cookies!"

"No, thank you mother." The young woman sighed. She'd not had much of an appetite lately at all. And every morning she'd wake up afraid that she would be getting morning sickness. Luckily, nothing yet.

"I'd love a cookie!" Yamcha smiled brightly, making Bulma groan and sink lower in her seat.

More buzzing, only this time louder, made her frown. It almost sounded mechanical.

"Yamcha? Did you fix my cleaning-bots? No one will admit that they were the clever one to fix them!" The blond asked almost breathlessly. "You are such a good boy to fix them for me!"

Bulma only half-way listened to her former boy-friend explain how he'd not been the one to fix those bots her mother kept on and on about.

"There was nothing wrong with them." Dr. Briefs finally arrived to join the group, beaming paternally at everyone around him. "I looked over those cleaning-bots and they were fine."

Blue eyes focused on the dratted gravity chamber where Vegeta was training. Was the buzz coming from over there? She frowned, well used to diagnosing many mechanical problems from sound alone. And this buzzing was quite unpleasant, and growing louder.

"Do you hear that?" She asked her father.

"Yes." Dr. Briefs frowned. "Your mother won't admit there was nothing wrong with my cleaning-bots."

Yamcha smiled sadly and ate his cookie. He'd heard many such non-arguments over the years. He'd always enjoyed Bulma's parents. "What was wrong with them?" He asked the bubbly, if clueless, blond.

Bulma's mother smiled at him and patted Yamcha on the shoulder. "Thank you for asking, dear boy. Well, it's simple. They were picking up Vegeta's dirty laundry and dropping it all over Bulma's bedroom. You won't believe where they put his boots!"

Yamcha froze.

Bulma froze.

Dr. Briefs frowned in confusion, then looked at his daughter while his eyes narrowed slightly with shock.

Bulma gave her father an embarrassed smile, mortified right down to the marrow in her bones.

Yamcha sighed and never really knew why he rescued her. "It's okay, they're married now."

Dr. Briefs' eyes went wide, then he smiled even as his pretty wife started jumping up and down clapping her hands and babbling on about needing to throw a party.

Bulma gave a weak smile and seeing the happy look on her parent's faces, couldn't bring to tell them all it had been a huge mistake.

A large clanking sound of metal grinding on metal ripped through the air. Bulma and her father immediately frowned. Yamcha looked around, confused. While Bulma's mother was still nattering on about color schemes for the party as well as daisies and kissing.

A small popping sound and the whiff of scorched metal had Bulma moving before she even thought about it. Yamcha was on her heels, both of them racing toward the gravity chamber.

"What is that thing?" He yelled.

Bulma felt her heart beating and could just about hear the roaring of her own blood as she ran. "Training room that Vegeta had dad make! He's been overusing it! I told him he needed to take more breaks!"

"Told him or yelled at him?" Yamcha couldn't help the bite behind his laugh.

"Very funny! It's sounding like it could expl..." With that she screamed and ducked, Yamcha following suit as the gravity chamber simple exploded.

"No, no, no, no!" Bulma looked up through watering eyes, the air had turned thick with smoke and debris and it was hard seeing what was going on. Sick to her stomach, she looked out over the smoldering piles of metal and electronics and felt like crying.

"Seems you won't need a divorce after all." Yamcha started to smile, then grimaced as she grabbed his ear and gave it a vicious twist. "Hey, it's dark humor, I'm sure he's fine!"

Bulma, her heart pounding, wasn't laughing. She fell to her knees as another small explosion blew more chunks of debris every which way. "Vegeta ..." Her voice trailed off in a broken whisper.

Yamcha looked at her and saw the anguish in her eyes and swallowed hard. Whatever the thing between her and the Saiyan, mistake or not, he was sure she cared. Even if she didn't know it herself, he himself could see it in her. "Bulma." He reached for her.

But she didn't notice. Yamcha's hand fell to his side as she ran forward, looking around frantically. A large piece of something no longer identifiable slid down with a rasping, grating sound. Bulma spun to look hopefully, but could see no signs of life.

"Vegeta?"

Yamcha sneered to disguise how hurtful it was to hear that note of longing in her voice. A note that he'd not heard for a long time now. Maybe she had been right and they'd been over as a couple long ago, but where both just too stubborn to admit it.

A strong arm suddenly punched upwards through the debris.

Bulma caught her breath and rushed forwards, only to yell out in shock as suddenly Vegeta rose from out of the destruction surrounding him. He was bruised, battered and bleeding. Even Yamcha winced when he caught site of how badly the Saiyan looked.

Bulma blanched at all the bloody cuts and how Vegeta was staggering, not able to keep his balance very well. He looked dazed. She rushed toward him, but he held up one hand to stop her.

She glared.

Vegeta sneered. "I don't need help, woman."

Bulma yelped as he swayed, then caught his balance. He frowned at her again, she frowned right back at him. "Don't be an idiot!" She screeched.

Vegeta winced and shook his head, swaying and then stumbling before falling onto his back. "I said I don't need your help!" He protested in vain.

But Bulma would not be deterred as she raced up to him, running her hands over his bare chest and looking to see how badly each wound was bleeding.

Yamcha watched as his former girl-friend cradled the Saiyan's dark head in her lap, touching him tenderly as she tended to the wounded man. Looking away, he spotted Dr. Briefs and several Capsule Corps employees rushing over to help.

Fine. Yamcha waved at them, to show them where to come to help. Then he took off. He'd always care for Bulma, and he'd always be her friend. But there was no need to watch her falling in love with someone else. That was just a bit too much.

"Yamcha." Bulma watched the young Z fighter fly away sorrowfully, though she understood.

The name she spoke though, made the man in her lap growl and struggle to get up. "Is that weakling here? I thought I told him I'd kill him if he came around here again!"

Bulma smacked him on the chest, then winced as he groaned in pain. "Oh Vegeta! I'm so sorry! You just make me so angry sometimes!"

"I make YOU angry?" He groused.

"Yes! You are arrogant and selfish and you are so stubborn that I could just scream!" Bulma complained, even as she carefully wiped blood away from his eyes.

"And you're idiotic, silly, and you think you'll always get your own way you stupid, gorgeous woman!" Vegeta hissed.

"Silly? I am not silly!" Bulma yelled, then the word clicked. Gorgeous? "Vegeta?" She shook him, but the big bad man was out cold. She burned with rage and something else, something she couldn't name. He'd called her idiotic and silly, but he'd also called her gorgeous. And then he had to pass out! It wasn't fair!

Had he meant any of it? Could Saiyans even get concussions?

.III

Vegeta came out of it slowly, as if in a fog. He blinked up at the ceiling in confusion. For a moment he wondered if he was back on a spaceship heading somewhere that Frieza had ordered for him to destroy.

Pain. The Saiyan frowned, deliberately pushing the pain aside. Pain was nothing to a warrior. He turned his head one way and saw the back of someone working on some computer. She had turquoise hair.

Click.

"Woman."

Her fingers stopped typing. Blue eyes turned to look at him. He watched as she looked him up and down, then her gaze finally met his.

"So. You didn't manage to commit suicide after all." She said tartly.

Vegeta frowned, but didn't answer directly. He looked up toward the ceiling. "Why are there daisies over my bed?"

Bulma muttered something strange about her mother, then stopped. "Never mind that. Are you so in love with me that my rejection has you training beyond the abilities of your own body? Training beyond the ability of your facilities. You just about train until you die." She sounded quite ill with him.

The Saiyan smiled. "I would never die outside of battle."

She grunted softly and shook her head. "You're missing the point."

Vegeta struggled to sit up, gritting his teeth to ignore the pain. "No, woman. The point is I'm not dead, and this will only make me stronger."

"I won't need a divorce if you make me a widow." She said almost softly.

He frowned. More divorce talk. He didn't like that. "I thought that's what you wanted."

"If you die, who will save Earth? Goku? I thought you wouldn't want to leave it for someone else to get the glory."

Vegeta stared at her for a long moment. "His name is Kakarot. And don't bait me, woman."

"So. You'd let Goku get all the glory?" She smiled sadly at him.

"NEVER!"

Bulma nodded. "Good to hear. Now, here are the rules. You don't get to kill yourself."

Vegeta grunted. "That's your first rule? Well mine is that we're married. Get used to it."

She frowned at him, he wasn't supposed to insert his own rules! She coughed. "No, rule number two is that you have to date me."

"DATE?" Vegeta roared, then winced as he coughed harshly. Finally he stopped long enough to glare at her. "Why do I need to date my own wife?"

She blushed as she continued. "No more sex until we're married."

Vegeta frowned sharply. "We are married."

"The Saiyan way. I mean an Earth wedding." She took a deep breath to steady herself. "And I've not agreed to marry you."

"We. Are. Married. You. Silly. Woman." He ground the words out with total deliberation.

Bulma threw her hands in the air, frustrated. "You are too stubborn for words. I should have let you die out there."

He grinned. "See? I knew you'd eventually figure out how to get a divorce the Saiyan way."

"Dying?" Bulma glared at him, still remembering her panic when the gravity chamber had exploded. "That's not funny. And I'm not kidding about these rules."

"I'm not going to date my own wife." Vegeta told her bluntly. "And no more sex? I will not accept that rule."

Bulma shook her head at him. "You have to give me something here, you stupid Prince."

Vegeta eyed her cautiously, perhaps he had pushed her too far. "I'll let you name the baby."

The young woman growled. "How big of you. Do you mean the baby I'm not even carrying?"

"You could be." He pointed out reasonably. Vegeta just didn't bother to tell her that Saiyan women always had naming privileges. "You could be."

Bulma sighed with frustration once more, worried he might be right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I do so hope you're still enjoying my foray into DBZ. This couple has always, always fascinated me.
> 
> p.s. Vegeta did call Bulma 'gorgeous' while they were on Namek, though not to her face.


	6. Daisy, Daisy

Bulma stared at her wounded Saiyan warrior, unable to describe her feelings. Relief that he'd finally woken up, irritation at his attitude, fear that she'd almost lost him, and an uneasy feeling that she shouldn't care if she HAD lost him. Only, she did care. Her nerves were shot waiting for him to come around after the explosion.

She was so wrapped up in her inner turmoil, it was a few moments before she realized what he was doing.

Bulma straightened up in alarm. "Vegeta! You are NOT going to get up!"

The Saiyan sneered, though his face was pasty and sweating. He'd managed to pull himself up out of supine and was sitting on the edge of the bed. Every muscle in his body ached but he was not going to let his mate see him as weak.

"You stupid man!" Bulma hissed, rushing to his side. She reached for his shoulder and he slapped her hand away. "Stop it! You are not well yet!" She reached out to push his shoulder and he grabbed her hand instead.

Vegeta groaned, then stopped and winced. He eyed her a moment and then deliberately sat forward as if to stand.

She tried to shove him with her free hand and he tried to catch himself, but found to his horror that he was falling backwards. But he held onto her as he did so. Bulma squealed as she felt herself pulled forward, suddenly landing inelegantly on top of him. Vegeta groaned in pain and sputtered as he tried to catch his breath.

Horrified, the young woman rolled off of the injured male, anxiously running her wide blue eyes all over him. "That was a stupid thing to do!" She berated him, irritated beyond belief.

Vegeta blinked up at her, then let his gaze shift away. He frowned. "Daisies are a strange thing to hang over someone's sick bed. Earth customs are weird."

Bulma ignored the comment, knowing her mother was using the daisies as a summer substitute for mistletoe. That was something she was loathe to admit to Vegeta of all people! Kissing was bad. Kissing was dangerous! This whole irritating mess started because of a kiss! No more kissing!

"Why are you angry, woman?" Vegeta eyed his mate carefully, she was glowering.

"I'm not angry!" She denied with a vengeance that belied her words.

The Saiyan watched her carefully. "You look angry."

Bulma didn't want to admit that she'd been worried about him, so she changed the subject. "Hungry?" She asked him.

Vegeta hadn't been aware of being hungry, but the moment she mentioned it his stomach growled loudly. "Yes. I must of have missed lunch."

Shaking her head at him, Bulma moved her desk and opened up a capsule corps box. She tossed two small capsules on the desk and a covered tray appeared out of the small puff of smoke. "You missed lunch, dinner, breakfast, lunch dinner, breakfast, and lunch again. Times three." She prattled on as she readied the tray.

Vegeta frowned. "This is not the day the gravity room exploded?" He asked, appalled.

Bulma shook her head. "Three and a half days." She sighed and rolled her shoulders. Three and a half days of wondering if her Saiyan was ever going to wake up again. Her eyes felt watery and she made a mental note not to have the R&D guys put so much pepper in the beef soup next time. Even as she thought it, she knew she was lying only to herself.

"Gah!" Vegeta struggled to sit back up, clutching his right side as he winced. "I've wasted three and a half days? I need to get back to training immediately! Where are my clothes, mate?"

"Shredded to bitty pieces by the big bad explosion that nearly killed you." Bulma cooed in a deliberately annoying manner. "And you need to get your strength back. Here's some food." With that, she put the tray of food on the small table beside his bed.

Silence.

Vegeta stared at the bowl of soup in disgust. One bowl? For as hungry as he felt? And SOUP? Where was the meat and protein that he needed? Where were the carbs his body craved right now? And the nourishing vegetables he would surely need to consume in great quantities?

Bulma watched, almost amused as he looked at the bowl, then looked behind her at the desk to see if there were any more trays of food. She didn't even wait for him to ask. "You are convalescing, this is what your body needs."

Vegeta scowled as he watched his mate pick up the spoon and dip it in the hot liquid. "This is not food, woman!" But she popped the spoon in his mouth right as he was still talking. He automatically swallowed and glared at her.

She glared right back.

"You've been out of it for days, DAYS! Vegeta, you need to start slowly and not overload your system! Now, you need to eat this." Bulma kept her voice even-tempered and almost sweet. But it was still an order.

"Another of your so-called rules?" Vegeta snarled, then coughed as she stuck another spoonful of soup in his mouth. "STOP THAT, WOMAN!"

"Tastes good, though, right?" Bulma smiled and for the first time Vegeta saw that there were dark circles under her eyes. He paused and she offered him another bite of soup. It was tasty, and he was hungry. He opened his mouth for her, but didn't take his eyes from her face.

Bulma gave him a few more bites, smiling encouragingly. Her free hand reached out and smoothed out an errant lock of her hair. Vegeta's eyes narrowed. She looked paler than usual. He growled and her hand stopped in mid air, the spoon hanging there.

Vegeta reached out and took the spoon from her. "I can feed myself, woman." But there were no bite to his words. He nodded towards her. "Were you injured in the explosion?"

Bulma shook her head and shrugged. "No."

His eyes narrowed. "Woman ..." He drew out the word as a warning.

"I'm fine, Vegeta." She stopped as she watched him purse his lips as if angry again. "What now?"

The Saiyan took a few more bites, this silly soup really was quite tasty. "You don't call me correctly."

Bulma frowned. Call him? Correctly? She thought about her words. "I'm not allowed to call you Vegeta? Or do I need to say 'your highness', or 'almighty Prince' or something?"

The Saiyan ignored her as he finished his soup. His stomach growled again. Bulma took out another capsule and produced another steaming bowl. Vegeta grunted in approval and dug in quickly.

"What? No thank you?" She asked sarcastically.

The Saiyan grunted again and kept eating.

"Vegeta ..." She drawled out his name deliberately. Like hell she was going to call him Prince or anything like that!

He ignored her.

Bulma fumed, tapping one foot. Of all the things in this world that she hated ...this world? How about on ANY world! She did NOT like being ignored.

Playing it dangerously, she snatched food away from a hungry Saiyan.

A loud growl was her only warning before her hand was snagged and she was tugged off balance, landing on the bed where a certain male rolled on top of her. The bowl of half-eaten soup spilled all over the floor. She had a moment of panic, and then anger overrode all sense of danger.

"VEGETA!" She slapped his shoulder where there were no bandages.

"That is not how you should call me!" He roared directly into her face.

She crossed her eyes and childishly stuck out her tongue at him.

The Saiyan groaned. "Woman!"

"I am not calling you Prince Vegeta or Your Highness! How about I just call you man!" She glared at him.

His gaze softened. "It would be preferable."

Caught off balance, she blinked three times rapidly. "What? Prince?"

Vegeta shook his head. "I am your man, you should call me so."

Bulma tried to swallow, but her mouth was suddenly bone dry. He wasn't looking for her to call him by an official title, but a more intimate one. Her gaze softened and so did her resolve, but only for a moment. She gritted her teeth and ordered her body to ignore the hard muscled male on top of her.

"That is not Earth custom."

"Yes it is." Vegeta pinned her with a long look. "Your mother calls your father 'dear'. Is it not the same?"

"They're married!" She pushed at him, but he didn't budge.

Vegeta stared at her a long moment. "So are we." He said finally.

.III

"Do you think the daisies are working?" Bulma's mother bustled around the small table and refilled her husband's tea cup.

"Are they broken?" Dr. Brief's asked, not paying attention at all as he sketched out a schematic for a complicated multi-articulated joint that would soon be placed inside reinforced tubing, which in turn would be used to help rebuild the gravity room.

Bulma's mother whisked away an empty plate that had held the good doctor's lunch. Trilling laughter followed in her wake. "I hope not dear. But if anyone could fix the daisies, I'm sure it would be you!"

Dr. Brief's nodded. "Thank you, my dear." He finished the schematic with a small flourish of his hand. "I'll fix the desktop later. I promise."

"Why? What's wrong with the vacuum?" Bubbled the petite blond, but when she turned back toward the table her husband was already heading toward his workshop.

"Desktop, darling. Not vacuum." Dr. Brief's smiled at his pretty wife. "Desktop. Isn't that what you were asking me to fix?"

The blond nodded. "Of course darling!" She moved back to the table to clear off the remaining dishes. "It's amazing how often things break around here. I had no idea both the desktop and the vacuum were broken."

.III

Bulma didn't know how to respond. She watched as Vegeta pushed the soft curls of her hair away from her face. "We... we're not really married." It was almost a whisper.

He frowned, his voice a rough rumble of sound. "By the traditions of my race, we are."

"Not of mine." Her voice was a bit stronger this time.

Vegeta frowned, then nodded. "How long before the gravity room is repaired?"

Bulma scowled at him, a lot more strength in her voice this time. "REBUILT! Not repaired! You destroyed it in your little suicide attempt!"

The Saiyan frowned sharply. "I was training!"

"If that's what you want to call it you horrible man!" She shoved him, then blanched as he groaned with pain and caught his breath.

Bulma scrambled out from under him and pushed and prodded until he was lying back on the bed. Vegeta stared up at the ceiling and scowled at the daisies hanging there.

The Saiyan blinked at the flowers and then realized where he was lying. He growled at Bulma. "Mate, I need to get up to train."

"I'd kill you first." She hissed, one hand planted firmly on his chest.

He smiled at her.

She scowled. "I threatened you and you seem happy?"

"You almost sounded Saiyan for a moment." He told her bluntly.

Bulma heard something in his voice and jumped to conclusions. "You ...you wish I were a Saiyan, don't you?"

Vegeta frowned. What was she saying?

"That there was still a plant full of Saiyan women." She felt tears prick the back of her eyes. How could she have forgotten the tragedy of his being nearly the last of his race?

The irritating man started laughing.

Annoyed to say the least, Bulma started to climb out of bed. But the Saiyan wrapped one arm around her and wounded or not, he was strong enough to keep her from moving any further away from him.

"It's not funny!" Fumed the turquoise-haired woman.

Vegeta blinked at her, and let the laugher fade away naturally. Finally he touched her nose with his free hand. "When does the no-sex rule go into effect?"

Bulma frowned in alarm. "You can't have sex now! You're not strong enough!" She knew it was a mistake the moment the words left her mouth.

The Saiyan's eyes narrowed, his nostrils flared and his hands pulled her close to his body. "When? When does it go into effect ...mate." He emphasized the last word deliberately.

He didn't want her to be formal? Pft. Fine. Bulma smiled with a false sweetness. "Your highness, Prince Vegeta of the Saiyan's? The rule is already in effect!"

The wounded warrior grinned in triumph. "Good. I just want to make sure so that I can break it as soon as possible." He nipped at her nose, making her squeak in protest. "And as often as possible."

.III

"I need to get my recipe for grilled tuna from the desktop, darling!"

Dr. Briefs blinked, looked up at the door to his study. "Did you forget the password again?"

Bulma's mother, twirled one blond curl with her finger. "Of course not! I'm just waiting for you to fix the desktop."

The doctor nodded and walked over to the computer unit. He tapped a code and the machine whirred smoothly to life. He frowned. "It seems fine to me."

The delighted blond clapped her hands. "You've fixed it! How marvelous!" She kissed Dr. Briefs all over his face, making the man blush in pleasure and forget to correct her that the computer had never been broken in the first place.

.III

Bulma's mind flew like quicksilver. She craned her head back and looked over at her desk and mentally counted backwards.

In that position, her bared neck was right in front of Vegeta's eyes. He grinned.

"OUCH!" Bulma scowled and tugged at the dark hair of the Saiyan who was currently biting her neck. "That was almost healed!"

Vegeta ignored her palms slapping at his shoulders, until she inadvertently hit a recent wound. He groaned and stiffened up.

Bulma froze. "Oh Vegeta, I'm so sorry!"

Pushing back the pain with supreme willpower, the Saiyan forced himself to relax.

"But I was trying to make you stop, I didn't mean to hurt you!"

He cleared his throat. "Just to be clear, a Saiyan woman would have done that on purpose and would have enjoyed it."

Bulma frowned. "I don't like the sound of your Saiyan women."

Vegeta gave her a quick grin. "Neither did the Saiyan men."

Shocked, Bulma stared at him, her blue eyes wide with wonder. "Huh?"

Vegeta took advantage and dipped his head down to steal a long kiss. He frowned slightly though, his woman may have been right in that he might not be strong enough to finish what he was trying to start. His muscles felt weak and shaky. He scowled. This would not do.

When the dratted male claiming to be her husband finally let her come up for air, Bulma put her hand on his shoulder to keep him back. Not that it could have stopped him, but she was trying to make the effort.

Kiss-stung lips. Vegeta smiled, liking the look of wonder on his mate's face. He suddenly yawned widely. This made him growl in disbelief. How could he be so weak? It was only one little explosion!

Bulma looked over at the clock again and quickly asked her question, to stall the next kiss and out of major curiosity. "So, is that why your race were conquerors and explorers? To get away from your women?"

Vegeta shook his head. "No. That is simply part of our nature, male and female alike." He yawned again, this time he could almost hear the creaking of the mandible joint.

"So why don't your males like your females?" Bulma frowned. "Did you marry outside your species a lot? Maybe there are a lot of Saiyan children running around out there!"

But the Prince of the Saiyans shook his head, trying to clear the foggy feeling stealing over him. "No. We never went outside our own race. Until now. Saiyan women aren't very nice, but they were the only ones that could handle mating with us. Other races were too fragile."

"You think I'm too fragile?" Bulma asked, curious. "That I can't manage to handle you?"

Vegeta nodded. "You can't help it."

She smiled. "And only Saiyan women could manage Saiyan men?"

He nodded again, wondering why there was darkness eating away at his vision.

Bulma kissed his forehead as he slumped down on the bed. "Well this fragile Earth woman MANAGED to handle you just fine." She whispered as his eyes started to close. "And the drug I slipped you in that first bowl of soup should help you sleep and heal for a good twelve hours."

Vegeta's eyes went wide for a moment in shock, before he slipped away into complete slumber.

Bulma sighed at the small victory, knowing the battle was far from over. She started to slip away from the bed and the gently snoring male. Her foot touched the ground and she slipped backwards with a small shriek, shaking the bed as she fell.

She'd slipped on the spilled soup!

Bulma froze as Vegeta groaned and mumbled. She stared at him a long moment, then nodded in satisfaction. He was out cold. Good. Served him right, she'd known she would have to drug him once she realized he wasn't going to listen to reason and stay in bed to heal like a sane person.

The young woman studied the face in front of her for a long moment. Asleep, Vegeta lost that habitual sneer of his. His face smoothed out. No anger and no sarcasm. He should look sweet, but he didn't. Bulma frowned, considering. Then she smiled ruefully. He was too cute for words, but he was also too handsome and chiseled to ever look 'sweet', even in slumber.

"Goodnight sweet Prince." Bulma couldn't resist as she leaned forward and kissed his lips.

Then she froze as she heard the creak of the door behind her.

Bulma spun and spied her mother. Who must see a half-dressed Saiyan on a bed with her daughter who was kissing him! "Oh! Mom!" She tried to explain. "It's not what ..."

Her bubbly and vivacious mother squealed with delight, stopping Bulma cold. "Huh?"

"Oh my dear!" Her mother cooed. "The daisies do work!"

Chagrined and blushing, Bulma looked up at the daisies over the bed and then down at the sleeping Prince. "Huh. How about that." She muttered darkly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Behold! The awesome power of daisies!


	7. Errands

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do I need to warn you (again) that this fic is rated Explicit for a reason ... no? Good.

Vegeta's eyes popped open suddenly. One second asleep, and the next scowling. A moment of confusion and then he whipped his head around to glare at the empty seat by the desk. His wife was wisely not there.

"Oh! You're awake at last!" Bulma's mother smiled widely at him and patted the end of the bed. "There are fresh linens and medicines for you."

"I don't need medicines." Snapped Vegeta, angry that the true target of his mood was not there. "Where is my wife?"

Blonde curls bounced as Bulma's mother nodded and turned to pour a cup of steaming tea from her ever-present tray. "My darling said you would wake up grouchy! She is so smart like that!"

Grouchy? Vegeta sneered. He was a damned sight past grouchy. Bulma had drugged him! HIM!

Disregarding the woman in the room, Vegeta threw off his covers and sat up, stretching. Muscles bunched and smoothed as he tested the movements. Hmph. Not bad at all. A twinge or two, but basically he felt great.

Vegeta smiled nastily. "A Saiyan warrior always heals stronger than he was before injured!"

"Oh!" Bulma's mother clapped in appreciation. "How marvelous! So impressive! Tea?"

"My wife?" Vegeta asked again, standing and padding bare-foot over to his clothing trunk. Long black training shorts were all he was wearing. He threw open the trunk that he used for his equipment when traveling and frowned. Empty.

"Oh my darling girl has gone on an important errand!" The blonde nodded.

Vegeta looked over at the closet that he'd not been using. He stalked over and opened the door. Empty. He scowled deeply. "Where is Bulma?" He hissed.

His wife's mother shrugged with a smile. "She just said it was important. Now, a big strong man like you needs to eat!"

The Saiyan's stomach growled. "Yes. Food." His temper faded slightly. Food would be perfect. "Not soup!" He ordered imperiously, remembering how Bulma had tricked him.

"You should get dressed!" Bulma's mother said sweetly. "And come down for a hearty breakfast! I'll make you animal-shape pancakes!"

Dressed? Vegeta's temper flared back up again. "And what am I to dress in, woman? My clothes are missing!"

But Bulma's mother gave a chirping laugh. "Oh no, silly! All your clothing is in Bulma's room of course! Now that you're married it's only right." She didn't even think to mention that she had made that decision all on her own and her daughter knew nothing about it.

Stunned, the Saiyan stared. Bulma had moved his things to her room? His temper banked downwards as he nodded thoughtfully. Perhaps he was reacting rashly.

In the Saiyan traditions, the male ruled. Absolutely. That is, once a female had chosen a mate then he became the leader of the family. However, there were times a Saiyan woman had a right to put her foot down.

Vegeta frowned. No. Bulma had no way of knowing that a Saiyan female could pull a stunt like she did, drugging him like that. But males of his species were very stubborn and would often refuse medical attention. Women had the right to over-rule their mates on this matter all in an interest to assure procreation.

Did she know that? Or was she just being ...Vegeta ignored the blonde's rambling speech as he headed down toward Bulma's rooms. Did his mate fear for his survival? Had she drugged him ...for what? The way she'd been throwing divorce in his face, it surely wasn't to make sure he could still produce a child with her.

"See?" Bulma's mother trailed behind the Saiyan Prince as she described all she'd had the house-hold bots do to move his clothing down here, but he wasn't really paying attention to a thing she said. "It's all here!" She smiled sweetly.

Vegeta stared. His boots were in Bulma's closet. Her clothing had been moved over to make room for some of his, though her things still took up the vast majority of the space.

The Saiyan turned to look around the rest of the room. Basically it was the same as before, only he was pleased to see no more pictures of Yamcha. Instead there were vases of ceramic daisies. Vegeta blinked. Daisies had been above his bed when he'd been injured too. Perhaps they were his mate's favorite flower.

"I'm going to clean up and then be down to eat. Then training." Vegeta announced, turning away from unfamiliar thought patterns.

Bulma's mother clapped her hands happily. "I'll get the food ready! I hope you brought your appetite!" She cooed as she nearly ran from the room.

Vegeta nodded in satisfaction and turned, spying something colorful on the dresser. A pamphlet. He glanced at it and froze. The word nearly jumped off the page at him. Pregnancy.

Pleasure seeped down all the way to his marrow. Of course. It all made sense now. Bulma had drugged him to assure her child had a father. Misguided, and he'd have to warn her not to do so again. But there would be no more divorce talk. Not now that she was pregnant with his child. She'd even gone so far as to move him into her room.

Perfect.

.III

Bulma sighed, despondent. Their corporate lawyers were all confused about why she was talking about dissolving a marriage that had never taken place as far as their local laws allowed. It's not like she could tell them that she'd accidentally married herself off to an alien! She'd just told them he was a 'foreigner' with different traditions.

They all agreed. She wasn't legally married.

The turquoise haired woman shook her head. Like Vegeta would care what her lawyers had to say!

Bulma sighed and looked at her watch as she headed up the street. She was meeting with a new doctor, one a friend had suggested for a prescription for birth control. Now. What was the address? Bulma frowned as she searched her purse, she must have left the pamphlet at home.

Oh well. She pulled out her phone and looked up the address that way. She couldn't afford to be late. LATE? Bulma snorted in self-derision. She couldn't afford to be late in that sense ...or in any other way either! She shivered at the very idea.

Imagine. Pregnant? Not her. Stupid Saiyan male. Bulma frowned, then sighed. But he was also a sexy Saiyan male and really quite cute. And ...alright, he was hot. Bulma shook her head sadly. And she needed this prescription for birth control, because as long as Prince Vegeta thought they were married, she was pretty sure she wasn't going to be able to resist him much.

.III

Vegeta was in a grand mood. Not even the fact that Dr. Briefs was not yet done rebuilding the gravity room could deflate his good humor.

Bulma was pregnant.

The Saiyan flew through the mountainous regions and dropped down to run through some training drills. He pushed himself hard and let the sweat flow down his back as he forced himself to move faster and faster.

Pregnant.

The word was like a touchstone. It wouldn't leave his mind. Vegeta frowned. He needed to focus on his training! He destroyed a rock-face into pebbles and frowned deeper.

Pregnant.

He should NOT let the fact that his mate was going to give him a child distract him! Vegeta smiled grimly. And here Bulma had told him it would take her six weeks to know if she was pregnant.

His fists flew, energy formed and discharged at dizzying rates when he started ...to ...slow ...down.

Pregnant?

But it hadn't been six weeks since they'd become mates. Not even half of that time. A slow boil started in his blood. A vein throbbed on the side of his head.

Pregnant? PREGNANT?

They had not been together six weeks ago! But she had been with ...

Three miles away birds scattered fearfully at the sudden roar reverberating from the wilderness.

.III

Bulma turned into the driveway, almost home. She patted the small plastic bag next to her with satisfaction. All taken care of, she smiled.

Suddenly, Vegeta was standing in the driveway right in front of her. Bulma slammed on the brakes, but wasn't quick enough.

The bumper crumpled, but the Saiyan didn't even wince much less move.

Shocked, she yelled through the interior of the car. "What are you doing? You're still injured!" Then cringed as she watched him suddenly punch through the hood of her vehicle.

"Are you crazy?" Bulma threw open the driver's side door, leaping from the machine in a daze. "You killed my car! Look, I'm sorry I drugged you but it was for your own good!"

A growl was her only response as suddenly her car flew back across the road and landed amid the branches of a large two-hundred year old tree.

Bulma's mouth gaped open in shock.

"I'll kill him!" The voice was dead cold with rage.

The young woman stuttered and pointed at the car stuck in a tree. "What do you have against my car?" Then she shrieked as the Saiyan male was suddenly in her face. She had NEVER seen him this angry.

"He will be dead."

"W ...who?" Bulma couldn't get a handle on what was going on. Wasn't he mad about her drugging him?

Vegeta picked her up a few inches, squeezing her shoulders as her feet dangled off the ground. "You're carrying HIS child!"

Okay. She didn't know what he was talking about. But this wasn't good. Bulma's temper flared, and as ill advised as it might have been, she screamed in his face.

"I'M NOT YOUR WIFE!"

Shocked out of his rage slightly, Vegeta paused, it was only a second but it was enough.

Bulma kicked him ineffectually in the shin. "I'm NOT your wife!"

He gave her a small shake and then frowned. "Does he know?"

She gritted her teeth. "Everyone knows we're not really married, EXCEPT YOU!"

Saiyan pride made him straighten his spine. "You chose me as your mate, knowing you were carrying someone else's child!"

The words pricked through her temper and Bulma stared into his dark eyes. "Vegeta? I'm not pregnant." She said as simply as she could.

He scowled heatedly. "I saw your paper on the drawer."

Paper? Bulma drew in a shocked breath. The pregnancy center pamphlet! "No! It's not just for women who are expecting! The doctor's office does more than just that!"

Slowly, slowly, the Saiyan blood began to cool. Then he growled. "It's too early for you to get a test. You said six weeks." He said suspiciously, wondering if she was trying to make a fool out of him.

Bulma's heart melted at the hurt tone in his voice, despite his obvious pride. "Six weeks to be sure, but there are ways to know that you're NOT pregnant before then." She blushed.

Vegeta held her still and processed her words. "You're not carrying his child?"

Yamcha. Bulma swallowed and shook her head. "Vegeta. I'm not carrying anyone's child. Now, can you put me down?"

The Saiyan belatedly realized he was still holding his mate off the ground. Gently he settled her back on her feet. Unsure what to say he looked up at her destroyed car. "I'll get that."

Bulma watched the man who claimed to be her mate fly up to the top of the 200 year old tree and pull out her car as if it were a toy. He brought the vehicle down and settled it on the grounds beside the driveway.

Vegeta looked at the twisted metal of what had been her snazzy sports car.

Bulma sighed sadly. She'd really liked that car too.

The Saiyan reached inside and pulled out her purse, and then a small plastic bag.

Bulma stiffened. The bag with her new pills.

Vegeta handed her the purse and the bag while guilt swamped her. Could she take these and not tell him? Yes. Yes she could.

"I thought you had deceived me." The Saiyan looked at her with dark eyes and waited for her response.

Suddenly Bulma realized, this was as close to an apology as she was ever going to get. The words spilled out before she could stop them. "I'm not pregnant. And I got these pills so I wouldn't get pregnant."

The Saiyan stared at her and she stared back.

Finally, Vegeta smiled.

Bulma blinked and did a double take. He wasn't angry?

The Saiyan threw back his head and laughed in triumph, hands on his hips looking as arrogant as possible.

"Aren't you upset?" Bulma sputtered, thrown off-balance by his lack of temper especially after the earlier display.

Vegeta pointed to the bag. "You didn't have those until today."

She shook her head.

"They're not for that puling weakling." He grinned and struck his chest proudly. "They're for me." It was as if he were daring her to deny it. And she couldn't.

Bulma's lips trembled as she discarded several responses, not sure what to say.

"You don't want to get pregnant with my child!" Vegeta nearly crowed with pride.

Completely confused, Bulma threw up her hands. "I don't understand you! I thought you wanted me to give you a son!"

"I do!" The Saiyan grabbed her lightning fast, pulling her into his body where he kissed her within an inch of her life.

Long moments passed before she was able to push him back far enough to stare into his face. "What?" She looked down and squealed.

They were flying. Her arms wrapped tightly around his neck, her purse and the bag with the pills dangling from her hands.

Vegeta swung her up into his arms and carried her as he flew toward the main house. He got to the door just as Bulma's mother opened it. The blonde blinked wildly and smiled. "Oh dear, are you done with your errands? I could use some help deciding on dinner!"

"Later." Vegeta passed by her mother and headed up the stairs, still flying. Bulma's mother stared after them in mild shock.

Bulma sighed with resignation, knowing without him saying that they were heading for her bedroom. "This isn't going to work." She whispered.

The Saiyan waited until they were in her room and he had closed her door before putting her down. On the bed.

Bulma pointed a finger at him. "I got these pills so I wouldn't get pregnant!" She said it again, just in case he'd misunderstood her the first time.

Vegeta leaned over her, invading her space. The only place to go was to lie back on the bed, so she stayed upright. Which put his lips less than an inch from hers. She swallowed nervously.

"You weren't worried about having that weakling's child." Vegeta breathed out the words and kissed her almost gently.

"No." Bulma admitted reluctantly, not even bothering to correct the Saiyan's assumptions about Yamcha being weak. He would probably not listen to her anyway. Besides, she had resisted Yamcha's advances since their last break up. They'd been tentatively together again right before their Namek adventure, but not sleeping together. And there had been no Earth pharmacies or doctors on Namek ...so no pills.

"There is no way you are having his child." It was a question and a statement, and his gaze demanded an answer.

Bulma thought about lying, but couldn't. "No. No way."

Vegeta grunted in approval. "And you got those pills today. Today!" He pushed forward and kissed her roughly, the momentum carrying her back onto the bed. When the Saiyan came up for air, she had her arms wrapped around his neck in spite of herself.

"And you moved my clothes into your room."

Bulma frowned. "Did not."

Vegeta stilled and nodded, "Your mother did then."

The young woman sighed. It sounded like something her mother would have done. Tell her that you're married and she'd expect you to be sharing a room. "Why does my getting those pills make you happy? Don't you get it? I don't want to be pregnant."

"But you do want to have sex with me, or you wouldn't have gotten the pills at all." Vegeta grinned and tugged on the collar of her blouse, popping the first three buttons. "See?"

Bulma shook her head mutely.

Vegeta bent down and placed a kiss between her breasts, nuzzling the bra aside as his mouth took possession.

Bulma shook for another reason now. She arched her back to give him better access. Vegeta chuckled as his hands slid up under her skirt.

Her hand moved to intercept his before her panties could disappear, along with whatever qualms she still had about all of this. "Vegeta? I drugged you against your will. I got pills to keep me from getting pregnant. Shouldn't you be angry?"

The Saiyan smiled against her skin and bit her breast slightly, making her hand fall away. His own hand slid up and under the band of her panties, tugging them off in one long move.

"Angry? Woman. How can I be angry when your actions just show that you consider me your mate. Your husband." Vegeta's fingers cleverly found the heated center of her, making her cry out and clutch at his shoulders for support.

Bulma arched her back and caught her breath. "Wrong ..."

Vegeta stripped off his pants and moved over his mate, waiting for her to look him in the eyes. Dark Saiyan eyes stared into her blue gaze as he entered her body in one, long, smooth motion. His hips began a deep rhythm as she widened her thighs for his possession, accepting all that he was giving.

.III

"Darling? I need your help."

Dr. Briefs looked up from his work, blinking owlishly at her as he set aside his tools. "Yes, dear?"

"Remember how I told you the garden was out of daisies? And you told me to get ceramic ones?" Bulma's mother looked worried.

The doctor frowned, he didn't like to see his wife upset. "Did they break?"

"No! Oh, I think they're TOO powerful!" Bulma's mother twisted her handkerchief in her hands. She leaned forward as if to impart a great secret. "There are sounds coming from our daughter's room!"

Dr. Briefs blushed.

"Maybe not ceramic daisies, but just a painting of daisies?" His blonde wife suggested.

"I don't think daisies have much to do with it at all." Bulma's father shook his head. "Darling, they're married. And ...perhaps some soundproofing would be best."

Bulma's mother smiled and nodded, but she knew those ceramic daisies were just too powerful. Then she paused as an idea began to form. "Maybe I need to order more ceramic flowers!"

Dr. Briefs paused and stared at his wife.

"Along with designing a nursery!" The blonde clapped her hands in delight. "Now, I wonder how quickly they can be delivered!"

Bulma's father opened his mouth to protest, but his wife had already scampered off making plans in her head. He sighed.

Life was never dull around here, that was for sure.

.III

Bulma groaned and pushed her damp hair out of her eyes. She turned to look at her Saiyan lover and spotted her open closet. Oh great. Her mother really had moved him in here!

Rolling over, she picked up her shredded blouse. "You're tough on a girl's wardrobe, Vegeta."

A hand settled on her bare hip and rolled her back onto her back. A certain Saiyan Prince rose above her. "Where do you think you're going? Wife."

Bulma frowned. "Stop calling me that."

"What happened to your 'no sex' rule?" He teased her as he traced a line down her nose and between her breasts, heading south.

"You happened." Bulma groused and slapped at his hand, which continued on it's journey undeterred.

Vegeta smiled as his finger circled her belly button before moving back down her body, making her breath catch in her throat. The man was insatiable! And unlike a human male, he still had energy to burn.

"You knew we were going to have sex. Because deep down you know we are mated." Vegeta scolded her almost gently. "You bought pills to prevent pregnancy, because you knew you wouldn't be able to keep your hands to yourself."

Bulma blushed, but unsure she could even argue the point. "You're the one touching me." She pointed out childishly.

Vegeta's hand paused and his finger left her skin. Bulma nearly cried out at the loss, so sensitive was her body right now. "Beg." He ordered.

"No." Bulma refused.

"Beg me." He insisted.

Bulma scowled. "Never!" Even though she was wanting his touch badly! Her mouth firmed and she sat up suddenly.

Vegeta rolled to the side, smiling at her. "You are my wife."

"No." Bulma scowled down at his magnificent body. He really was a work of art. And he wanted her. Blatantly wanted her. A certain part of his anatomy was nearly standing at attention as he watched her.

"I'm not touching you anymore." Vegeta nearly drawled the words. "You're going to have to beg."

Bulma didn't do well with dares. Never had. And even though it was a bad, BAD idea and she knew it ...she couldn't help herself. "We'll see who begs."

Vegeta had a moment to wonder what she meant by that cryptic remark before she bent down and took him in her hand a second before sliding the root of his body deep inside her mouth.

He didn't beg. But he did roar loud enough to shake the house.

Bulma smiled around his flesh even as she wondered how she was ever going to manage to convince him that they weren't married. Especially after this!


	8. Trust Issues

Vegeta was beyond shocked. One moment he had been teasing his woman, the next she had her hand on him ...then her she had wrapped her lips around a certain part of his male anatomy and taken him deep inside her mouth.

Completely and utterly at a loss, the Saiyan roared and the very walls of the house shook.

Bulma's mouth moved on him and he had a moment of planet shattering pleasure before he roughly pulled away from her, nearly falling off the bed as he stared, appalled, at his mate.

Wide dark eyes met startled blue eyes.

Bulma's mouth, her lips swollen from his earlier kisses, still formed an 'o'. She then smiled at him and winked. Moving toward him on all fours she was an enticing picture.

Vegeta shuddered and pushed himself farther from her.

Bulma slowed, then stopped. She tilted her head to one side slightly. "Vegeta?"

"Woman, are you crazy?" The Saiyan spat out the words, his mouth sounding hoarse and dryer than cotton.

His turquoise-haired mate sat up, sitting on her knees, her butt resting on the backs of her heels. She was bare chested and looked simply gorgeous to him. The Saiyan swallowed hard. She hadn't meant it. Of course she hadn't.

"What's wrong?" Bulma felt a sinking in her stomach. She had never seen Vegeta act like this, never.

"You didn't mean it." He informed her, sounding almost dazed.

Blinking, she shook her head slightly. "Mean what? I was just trying to ...look, you challenged me." Bulma didn't do defensive well. Offense was more her type of strategy. "It was definitely your fault. Whatever it is. That's right, you wanted me to beg!"

The Saiyan Prince growled, still staring at her and completely unmindful of his nudity. "So you thought to challenge me?" He sounded incredulous. "Woman, I ...I am surprised."

Bulma paused. After the mix up with the word 'mate' meaning wife and all, she was trying to be more cautious. "You didn't seem to mind me touching you there earlier." Just what was the hang-up? Did Saiyan's have a taboo about oral sex? "Doesn't your race ...I mean, didn't they ever ..." She couldn't say it, just waved her hand toward his groin.

Vegeta grabbed his pants and slid into them quickly.

"I guess not." Bulma blushed. "Look, I'm sorry I didn't know you wouldn't enjoy ..."

"Enjoy?" Vegeta groaned. "Woman. Saiyan women were our only recourse. They were the only ones who could survive being mated to us. Enjoyment was fleeting at best, though. As the females were always seeking ways to regain dominance."

Bulma dropped her jaw even as she reached for her blouse, then grimaced as she saw that he'd shredded yet another garment. Instead she headed over to her closet to grab a robe. "Is THAT what you thought I was doing?"

Vegeta regretfully watched his mate tie her robe around her form, hiding her body from him. He scowled. "Weren't you? You claimed you were going to make me beg. Me? The Prince of all Saiyans? Beg? I think not, woman."

Startled, Bulma blinked and then did some scowling of her own. When he put it that way, it did make her seem in the wrong. Not that she'd ever admit to it, of course. "It's sex, Vegeta! On Earth it's simply a way of having sex!"

Vegeta sat on the edge of the bed and dragged on his boots. "Sex is for making children. Correct me if I'm mistaken about Earth anatomy, but what you were doing had zero chance of ending in pregnancy!"

She couldn't help it. Anger turned into a giggle. Vegeta gritted his teeth and she giggled louder.

"WOMAN!"

Bulma smothered a laugh and then tried to turn it into a cough. "It's fun!"

"It's unnecessary!"

She pointed a finger at him. "Prude."

Vegeta stared at her.

"It means you don't like sex." Bulma sassed him.

The Saiyan moved so swiftly she could barely see him. One minute he was across the room and the next he was in her face. "Take that back!" He demanded imperiously.

Bulma had no clue why she suddenly stuck her tongue out at him. It was childish and stupid and it felt so right.

He clenched his teeth and raised a fist.

Unfazed and strangely unafraid, she glared at him. "Don't you dare!"

The fist opened and he slammed his hand flat against her wall, leaving an indention in the drywall. He never touched her. "A Saiyan female could have inflicted all sorts of damage from that position."

Bulma froze, then pulled back to stare at him. He nodded, she was starting to understand his reasoning. As a mate should.

Suddenly the woman crossed her arms and glared at him. "First. I'm not Saiyan. Second. You don't trust me."

Vegeta nodded, oblivious to the rising color in her cheeks. It wasn't embarrassment this time. It was anger.

"Get out." She said simply and with all the dignity she could muster.

Vegeta stopped and gave her an odd look, there was a tone in her voice he'd not heard from her before. And he didn't like the sound of it. It was very cold. "Woman?"

"I said get out." Bulma looked very serious. "I will not be with a man that doesn't trust me."

Vegeta squared his shoulders. "And I will not lie with a woman who dares to challenge me."

"So, you expect me to be subservient?" She asked, feeling sick to her stomach. "Never an equal?"

The Prince stared at her. "An equal? You are not Saiyan!"

"And I never can be." She said quietly and opened the bedroom door for him.

Vegeta stared at the open doorway. He didn't want to leave. Pride wouldn't let him stay. He didn't need her. Not really. He gave her a long, level look and then walked away. The Saiyan did not look back at her.

Bulma felt like crying. Which was stupid. Because hadn't she been looking for a way out of this whole 'mate' nonsense? Not without a healthy dose of pride herself, she couldn't let him leave without saying something.

"What is the Saiyan ritual for divorce?" She asked, bile rising up from her stomach.

Vegeta didn't turn, didn't stop, and kept moving. "You chose me as a mate all on your own, figure it out yourself. Bulma."

He turned the corner and was gone.

Tears formed in her blue eyes. He'd called her by her name, and not as a 'woman' or a 'mate'. It's what she'd wanted from the start. Only now she knew that by doing so, he was actually distancing himself from her.

Victory, right?

So why did she feel like bawling?

.III

The next few days were a blur of misery. Days turned into two weeks.

Bulma slept in her bed. Alone.

Vegeta trained out in the countryside. Alone.

He came and showered and ate at times when he knew her to be gone.

Bulma stared at his clothes hanging in her closet. Every now and then an outfit or two would disappear, it was almost the only clue that he'd been there.

She thought about taking his clothing out and either throwing it on the lawn or back into his guest room. Only ...every time she touched something of his her mind froze and she couldn't do it.

Oh, it wasn't that she WANTED to be married to the arrogant jerk. But ...the thought of cutting him out of her life completely left her feeling almost panicked.

And truth be told?

She missed him.

Oh, she still had her friends and her family. But late at night, all alone in her bed, she missed him. How was that even possible? It's not like they were close friends or anything. Heck, she didn't even know his favorite food! He ate so fast and so much it was hard to tell.

During the day she'd rage at herself in the privacy of her own mind. But alone in her room, she knew that he'd pushed himself into her life and part of her wished he was still there.

Bulma looked at the clock on her desk and smiled grimly. She got up and put the final touches on her look for the day. She wanted to appear casual, as if it were any other day. Yet beautiful and irresistible.

She wanted him to want her back. Though she wasn't sure she would even take him back. And certainly not as a 'mate'. No, he'd hurt her with his lack of trust. And lack of respect. Not an equal? Bulma snorted. Like she would accept that!

And today was the day.

She and her father had worked long and hard to rebuild the gravity chamber, but it was finally ready. And something Bulma knew for sure, Vegeta wanted to train and train hard. He would not ever be able to resist coming back here to train.

And before he went inside for days on end? She wanted him to see her and know just what a prize he was missing.

.III

The Saiyan Prince wiped sweat from his forehead with a grimace. Anger and frustration rode him hard as he scowled. Why wasn't he a Super Saiyan yet?

Kakarot had achieved the near impossible. Kakarot. A low-level brat had surpassed him, the proud scion of the royal Saiyan blood.

It would not do.

Vegeta balled up his fist and drew his ki around him in layers, letting the energy flow and build up pressure as his veins dilated and his muscles bulked up, ready to move at a split-seconds notice.

He felt good. He felt powerful. More powerful than he'd ever been in his entire life. He glared at his hands and saw the energy potential there. But they were the hands of an ordinary warrior.

Not a Super Saiyan.

Prince Vegeta threw his head back, his neck arching as he roared his protest to the heaven's above. Birds scattered in every direction, startled.

As the echo of his roar slowly ended, he looked around the wilderness. What could be fought, he'd fought. What could be torn down, he'd destroyed. This place was not going to gain him an ounce of more power.

He needed that gravity chamber.

Vegeta growled low in his throat. And there was only one place to go to train in one.

.III

Dr. Briefs was reading a new treatise one of his colleagues had sent him about particle reconstruction for the newest polymers. He chuckled as he read. "But that would change the whole equation and leave you with steel as hard as butter!"

"Peanut butter? Oh my darling, I made you a chicken salad today, not peanut butter!" His wife sound dejected that she hadn't made him the lunch he wanted.

The good doctor lowered his papers, almost surprised to find himself in the kitchen even though that had been where he'd been heading when he'd started reading.

"Chicken is fine." He smiled at his pretty wife. Then stopped and stared at the table. There was no place to put a plate of anything. The entire piece of furniture was covered in flowers. Some real, some ceramic, and if he wasn't mistaken, one poor little flower was knitted.

His blonde wife hurried from the kitchen with a lovely plate of fresh fruit and some chicken salad on some greens. She stopped at the table and stared, then looked at him and he looked at her. "Oh dear." She sounded distressed. "I seem to have run out of room!"

Dr. Briefs took the plate from her with a smile. "It's alright dear, I can eat at my desk. But what is all this?" He'd been so busy rebuilding the gravity chamber that he must have missed whatever she was working on.

"Oh ...a special project." His bubbly wife smiled winningly.

He smiled back. He always smiled back, he couldn't help himself. "Of course darling! But perhaps we can move it from the table and into another room? Perhaps your craft room?"

Bulma's mother shook her head and shrugged. "I can't put it there! I don't have a craft room anymore!"

Dr. Briefs stopped and thought hard. "You don't? Did I take it over again? I'm sorry, I'll get my notes out of there." He turned to head up the stairs, still carrying his lunch in one hand and the scientific treatise in the other.

His pretty wife followed along behind him, talking about deliveries and nice young people who carried things upstairs for her.

Bulma's father was nodding and smiling as he nudged open the door to his wife's former crafts room. It was here he stopped and stared. He turned to stared at his wife with awe. "Do you have something you want to share, darling?"

The pretty blonde smiled and shook her head as she patted her pockets. "Not right now, but I can bring you some dessert later." She blew him a kiss and headed back down the stairs. "I'll make you a pudding! We can certainly share a pudding!"

Dr. Briefs turned around and stared into the room with wide eyes.

It was a nursery.

.III

Bulma practiced at least three dozen 'casual' poses. And the more she practiced, the later it got. And the later got, the more irate she became.

As time passed and the sun started to set, her plan changed. No longer wanting to get his attention, Bulma was determined to make him want her and then turn him away!

How dare he make her wait on pins and needles all day! As if she were some stupid fangirl at a teen concert or something! She was a grown woman. A beautiful and desirous grown woman! An UNMARRIED and sexy grown woman!

Vegeta could jump off a pier for all she cared. Bulma even snapped her fingers as she thought about that. Then in her mental image, the stupid Saiyan didn't fall off the stupid pier. No. He floated in the air and mocked her.

DAMN HIM! Even in her daydreams he was insufferable!

"What are you angry about now?"

The gruff voice coming from behind her made her spin around, startled. She stared at him and he stared right back.

"What makes you think I'm angry?" She snapped at him.

Vegeta stared at her, fighting to keep his expression neutral. Damn her! Why did she have to look so utterly gorgeous!

"Why are you standing in the entrance of the gravity chamber?" He answered a question with a question. "Are you waiting on me?"

"You jerk!" Bulma snarled. This wasn't going like she'd hoped at all! And here she was snarling at him like a fishwife, she must look horrible!

Vegeta's palms itched with the need to grab his mate and claim her as his. So he formed fists with his hands. She was not going to make him bend his pride, not even an inch! And why was she snarling at him like that? She had to know the anger brought color to her cheeks and made her buxom cleavage rise and fall with her increased breathing. His blood burned for her and the need to touch.

He scowled. She was making him crave her on purpose!

This was stupid. He should let her get her silly divorce and choose another Earth woman to have his son. Even as the thought crossed his mind, he rejected it. Admit defeat? Never! She would beg him before this was all over, and that's all there was to it!

But first, he had to make her come to him.

Bulma shook her head, barely holding her temper in check. "I helped re-design and rebuild the gravity chamber of course! I was just going over some last minute wiring to make sure you don't explode it again!"

Vegeta's gaze ran over her curvy form and smiled darkly. "Do you always work in high heels?"

Bulma's sudden blush made her cheeks burn. "You ...you ...JERK!" She repeated.

He smirked.

"Oh hello, I see you're back in time for the initiation sequences." Dr. Briefs was coming up the walkway from the house. He was all smiles.

"Oh darling, my beautiful girl!" Trilled Bulma's mother. "And Mr. Vegeta, so glad you're back. No one enjoys my cooking as much as you do!"

"And you're in time for some wonderful news! Your mother is expecting!" The good doctor shook Bulma's hand, then Vegeta's and then Bulma's again.

Bulma sucked in a shocked breath.

"Expecting what? A message?" Vegeta looked confused.

"A baby!" Dr. Briefs smiled widely. "I'm shocked of course."

"Oh I do have a message, I completely forgot!" Bulma's mother smiled becomingly and reached into her pocket. "It's from that delightful green man."

"Piccalo?" Vegeta snarled and took the piece of paper that the blonde was waving around in the air. "He is hardly delightful."

"I think he is." Bulma purred, just to be contrary.

Vegeta scowled down at the message. "This is from Elder Moori." He said, referring to the leader of the refugee Nameks residing on the Brief's land. The Saiyan opened it with a flick of his fingers. "Why would the Namek elder write me a message?"

Bulma froze. That message wasn't for Vegeta, it was for her! She made a grab for the paper, but Vegeta moved out of her way. His scowl deepening as he read.

"Dear? Did you say a baby is visiting?" Bulma's mother asked, sounding confused. "Did the nice green man have a baby?"

"No, you are." Dr. Briefs blinked. "Aren't you? I mean, I saw the nursery you designed."

Bulma's mother laughed and waved one hand in the air. "Oh no, that's for Bulma's baby of course!"

"Don't read that ...hey, what?" Bulma's attention was torn between her Saiyan and her mother. "I don't have a baby!"

Vegeta snorted. "Yet." He smirked.

"EVER!" She groused and lifted her chin in defiance. "And I don't accept that we're married!"

The Saiyan looked up and waved the paper in the air. "So. You asked the Nameks about Saiyan divorce proceedings. Smart girl."

Dr. Briefs scratched his head and shrugged his shoulders. "I'm going to be a grandfather? Even better!"

"A son." Vegeta nodded at the older man.

Dr. Briefs smiled and nodded. "I can buy him a tiny set of tools to help out in the workshop!"

Bulma's mother cooed and clapped her hands with joy.

"I am not having a baby!" Bulma felt the beginnings of a massive headache. "And I'm not married to him!"

Vegeta held up the message and used a touch of his built-up ki to destroy the note in a puff of flame. "Sorry, no divorce. Mate."

"I WANT A DIVORCE AND I WILL GET ONE!" Screeched Bulma.

Her mother smiled happily. "I need to throw a party for you two! Instead of an engagement party we can have they already eloped party!"

Dr. Briefs shook his head. "It doesn't sound like they're actually married, dear."

But the pretty blonde couldn't be deterred. "Of course they are! If they weren't married, she couldn't be seeking a divorce. You can't get divorced if you aren't acknowledging the wedding!" She smiled widely. "I hope you had a cake at least. And a good hot tea!"

Bulma froze and shot a glance at Vegeta. Then she groaned. The Saiyan was grinning in victory. Why oh why did her mother have to turn logical now of all times!

.III

She opened her mouth to protest, but didn't make it. A squeak of alarm escaped her as Vegeta grabbed her and took off into the deepening shadows of the evening sky.

Up and up they went. Bulma stopped fighting and wrapped herself around the Saiyan's muscular form.

"Don't look down." Vegeta ordered.

Bulma immediately looked down and felt faint. She tightened her hold on him.

The Saiyan sighed. "You don't obey worth a damn."

The turquoise-haired woman nodded, even frightened she couldn't let him get away with a comment like that. "You don't give orders well." She countered.

Vegeta sighed, refusing to take the bait. "Woman."

Bulma felt something inside her ease. He'd called her 'woman' again. Finally he stopped and she looked around carefully. Nothing.

The Saiyan saw her turn her head and finally look him in the eyes. "I will not grant you a divorce."

"Why?" She asked.

Vegeta shrugged. "I want you."

"You want a child. A son." Bulma countered, little heat in her voice.

"Yes." The Saiyan acknowledged. "I've always told you that. But I let you keep your pills."

Bulma blinked and then blinked again. He had, hadn't he? And he'd not even been terribly upset about the idea of her taking birth control. Did that mean he wanted her more than a child?

"I'm stronger than any of your Earth males." He informed her, almost defiantly.

Bulma caught her breath. Was he trying to impress her? "I'm stronger than a lot of them too."

Vegeta frowned, then nodded. "Mentally, yes."

"Watch out, Prince Saiyan ...that was almost a compliment." She smiled a moment then sighed. "I won't be your servant."

"I don't want to date."

She snorted slightly. It almost sounded like they were negotiating. Only the stakes were her very future! "A few dates. It's Earth custom."

He scowled. "One."

"One a week." She tucked her head down and leaned against his shoulder. "I agree."

Vegeta growled. "I meant only one date. Ever."

"Dream on Saiyan Prince." She traced the line of his collarbone with her fingers.

Vegeta caught her fingers in his hand and lifted her palm to his nose. He sniffed deeply. Bulma caught her breath and held it for a long moment.

"You are my mate."

Bulma nodded. "Fine. By Saiyan customs we are mated."

Vegeta nodded in victory, but then he'd expected nothing less.

"But we will not have any more sex until we are married by Earth customs." She informed him firmly. And Bulma knew she was going to make him jump through rings first. If a certain Saiyan was thinking about getting out of dating her? Pfft. He was dead wrong.

Vegeta thought it through and then nodded. "I accept your proposal."

Alarm bells went off in Bulma's head. "I didn't mean ..."

"You said we will not have sex UNTIL we are married." Vegeta nodded. "Now. Where do we go to get married?"

Bulma felt as if her whole world had suddenly switched it's axis. "What? No ...you have to date me first!"

Vegeta shook his head. "I'm having sex with you tonight. That means by your rules, we get married tonight. If you won't tell me how, I'm sure your mother will." He smiled snidely.

Bulma struggled against him. "Jerk! Let me go!"

Smiling, the Saiyan suddenly dropped altitude by ten feet without warning.

The turquoise-haired woman screamed and wrapped herself tightly around him.

Vegeta grinned. "Now. Let's go get married."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, if you've read this many chapters ...then I sincerely hope you really are enjoying the story.


	9. Date Night

He looked so angry, Bulma wouldn't have been surprised if steam came out of his ears. She carefully kept her expression neutral as they left the building. She let the moment lengthen, and the silence continue. For once, she knew if she said anything at all it would be bad.

She watched as Vegeta looked up a the stars in the night sky and scowled. "All you had to do was say 'yes', woman."

Bulma shrugged and looked away. "Technically, the response is 'I do'."

The Saiyan grimaced, clearly not happy.

"Threatening to blow up the church wasn't very nice." She said in a mock-soothing tone of voice. "Nor was making the poor man faint when you threatened to kill him if he didn't marry us."

Vegeta took a deep breath. "He was weak."

Bulma sighed. "I think he's something like 77 years old, Vegeta."

"Weak." He reiterated. "And he kept asking stupid questions."

Bulma yawned. "I don't think he believed you were from another planet. I told you you shouldn't say that."

"It's the truth." He shook his head at her.

"Let's go home." She offered him her hand.

Vegeta turned his dark-eyed gaze menacingly on her and she blinked rapidly, withdrawing her hand. "I could threaten you or your parents to make you say yes."

"Now see here, Mr. Prince of all Saiyans!" Bulma pointed her finger at him defiantly, moving from placation to anger in the space of a heartbeat. "I am not going to marry you tonight! We barely even know each other!"

Vegeta bared his teeth at her. "I'm a Saiyan, a Prince and a warrior. I want you to have my son. What more do you need to know?"

Bulma tapped one foot in agitation as frustration boiled over. "What's my favorite food, what is my favorite book or movie, and my very favorite color? Do you know what I studied in school? Who was my first crush? Do you know what I want out of life? Do you even care? What do you know about me at all?"

The Saiyan stepped back in the face of her sudden anger. He growled and threw up his hands in disgust. "What does any of that have to do with you not saying yes when the man asked if you would marry me?"

"EVERYTHING!" Bulma screeched, then her voice broke. "Everything." She turned away.

Alarmed, Vegeta took a step toward her once more, moving in close. Too close. "Woman?"

She refused to look at him, and tried to shove him away with her elbow but the man wasn't budging. "A marriage is based on more than wanting a child. It's not a momentary thing, Prince. To build a family you have to know, care and respect each other ...and you have to trust."

Suspiciously, Vegeta stared at the back of her head. Trust. She'd mentioned that before. "Do you mean when you tried to bite me?"

Bite? Bulma blushed. That was a new way to describe oral sex. "Not just that, but it's that you don't trust me or even know me."

Her voice sounded so lost that Vegeta awkwardly started to touch her, but then stopped. Offering comfort was not only new, it was polar opposite of his usual ways. "You ...you like daisies." He said in an almost quiet tone of voice.

Bulma gave a mocking little laugh. "Actually no, that's my mother."

Vegeta looked away, unsure. "You are smart." He finally said. "Working on the gravity chamber like you do."

The compliment shouldn't have pleased her like it did, but she couldn't help herself.

"When you read you sometimes get so engrossed with the book that you curl up almost into a ball." He pointed out. "And you toss your keys everywhere except where they belong."

Surprised, Bulma turned her blue eyes on him. He'd noticed that?

"And you never sit properly, you always lean to one side and pull up a leg under you or something." He stared at her. "Why do you do that?"

She answered, shocked that he'd noticed that about her. "I'm a bit short, most of the time the chairs aren't very comfortable. It's a habit."

Vegeta nodded, then gave her a long look. "You like to bite."

Bulma blushed hotly. He made it sound so awful! Like she was trying to hurt him or ...or ...suddenly she remembered something Vegeta had said before. More than once. Something that might ...might be of vast importance.

The Saiyan watched her draw back and stare at him with a strange expression. "What did I say wrong?"

But Bulma was shaking her head. "No. Vegeta? Why have your Saiyan men not been mating with women from other races?"

Confused, the Saiyan shrugged. "I've told you before. Females of our race are the only ones capable of surviving being our mates."

Nervous, and pretty sure she knew the answer, Bulma pressed on. "Why is Goku's wife still alive then? And aren't you worried about my surviving?"

Vegeta shook his head matter-of-factly. "Without our tails, we are not going to accidentally hurt our mates." He said it like it was common knowledge.

"And when you, er ...transformed into your other form ...you were capable of hurting your wives?" Bulma asked, almost breathlessly. She already knew the answer. She'd seen Goku transform before, and it was if he knew no one and nothing. He could have hurt anyone and not have been aware of it at all.

"Why the questions, woman? You already told the man you would not marry me." Vegeta snarled at her.

"Why do Saiyans get married, excuse me ...mated at all?" The turquoise haired woman felt her heart was about to break. Not because of him, but for him.

Vegeta drew up proudly. "That is a stupid question, woman. For sons."

"No other reason?" She asked him straight out.

The Saiyan shrugged as if to him the answers were far too obvious. "As a battle companion. To have a sexual release."

Bulma felt like crying. Vegeta was ...oh the poor man! He didn't know the difference between sex and making love. He didn't know about romance or caring. And the reason he didn't want her mouth on vulnerable parts of his anatomy was because she might bite him!

"Saiyan women sound terrible."

Vegeta scowled, his pride stung. "They are ...were great fighters."

"I'm sure." Bulma said as she patted pockets to make sure she had a debit card on her, since she didn't have her purse. "Now. We're going out to dinner."

The Saiyan frowned at her. "We can eat at home." He protested.

"No. We're going on a date." Bulma announced firmly. "You are taking me out on a date."

Vegeta shook his head negatively.

She eyed him carefully. "That is, if you want me to ever tell that man 'yes' when he asks me."

Carefully he eyed her. "Will you marry me after this date?"

"No." Bulma gave him a cheeky grin. "But if you play your cards right, there might be sex." Yeah, sure. As if she was going to let him sleep alone after missing him for the past two weeks!

Vegeta stared at her, unsure. "I don't play cards, woman." Then scowled as she laughed at him.

.III

Bulma sighed as she watched her 'date'. The restaurant was wonderful. The candles on the table were great. It was the moronic Saiyan gobbling down plate after plate of food in the most uncouth manner possible that her her depressed.

"Why did I think this was a good idea?" She muttered to herself. "Sure. Date a Saiyan. Find out what makes him tick. Get to know him. Shouldn't someone with royal blood have something called table manners?"

The turquoise-haired woman sat up slowly as she realized that her date's movements were slowing down. Even their exhausted waiter seemed to relax a bit and took a moment to wipe his forehead with a handkerchief.

Prince Vegeta looked up, an indecipherable look on his face, then gave a very loud and long burp. Diners near them turned and stared. Bulma blushed all the way to her toes. But as embarrassing as it was at least he was finally done eating.

"More!" The dratted Saiyan gestured to the poor waiter who rushed to grab the empty bowls before tottering off under the weight of the dishes.

Bulma sighed and put her chin back in her hand, leaning on the table. Vegeta eyed her plate as he waited impatiently for the waiter's return. "Woman? Are you not hungry? You need to eat more!"

"Why? For the baby?" She said sarcastically.

Vegeta's eyes went wide.

Bulma rushed to deny it. "No, no! I'm not pregnant, I already told you that! I was asking if you wanted me to eat more so I could nourish a baby when I ...IF I get pregnant!"

The male gave her a puzzled look. "Why would you need to eat more for a baby?

"Never mind." She said grumpily. "I've just ...lost my appetite." Then again, he was asking about her well being, and that couldn't be all bad. "Thank you for asking though."

Vegeta grunted and whisked her plate from her side of the table and started eating quickly, finishing off what had been her nice fish dinner just as the waiter came running back out straining under the weight of even more food.

Bulma sat there, shocked and appalled. Then giggled. What could she do? The man obviously was hungry. Goku was the same way. She'd always thought Goku was an aberration, but maybe this was a racial thing. Maybe it wasn't completely a lack of manners, but a metabolism issue.

She sat up, suddenly curious. "Do all Saiyans eat too much?"

Vegeta eyed her as he shoveled more food in his mouth. He shrugged. "We never eat too much. You eat too little." Then he went back to his spicy noodles.

"Oh sure. Because we should judge everyone else based on how different they are from Saiyans, not how you all differ from everyone else in the universe!" Bulma watched as Vegeta ignored her, and reached for a stewed dish. She threw up her hands in disgust.

"Oh darling, how good it is to run into you!"

That voice. Bulma stiffened painfully as she sat up, not wanting to turn around. That horrid voice! The fake dulcet tone grated her last nerve. Acid suddenly started bubbling in the pit of her stomach.

"Bulma Briefs!"

No help for it. Pasting a smile on her pale face, Bulma turned. "Gummy!" Her tone was as fake as the other woman's curves. "How delightful!"

Guma Shinten bared her teeth in what was passing as a smile. She hated the nickname 'Gummy' and always had, ever since grade school.

"Bulma, dear heart. May I introduce my escort for the evening? The estimeed Dr. Cho Tsung who is guest lecturing at the University later this week. That's physics my dear." The patronizing tone was enough to make Bulma see red. How she held on to her temper was a minor miracle.

The turquoise-haired woman held out one hand for the doctor to greet her. "Of course, our guest lecturer's reputation precedes him."

The pasty and far too thin older man gave an imperious nod of his head. His wispy comb-over shining greasily in the lighting within the restaurant.

Guma laughed and patted her escort's arm. "He has agreed to come in early to interview for a position. A real coup, wouldn't you say?"

Bulma gritted her teeth. Guma's father's company was a rival to Capsule Corps. Not a serious one, no matter how hard they tried, but they were always trying sneaky underhanded ways to steal corporate secrets. And to get a leg up on Capsule Corps.

"No. No. I wouldn't say." Bulma said, pretending as if thinking. "Dr. Tsung hasn't published in three years and his grant money has dried up, otherwise he wouldn't be interviewing. Not to mention that scandal with his secretary." She made as if to whisper. "So uncouth."

Furious, Guma stamped her foot. "I will have that new polymer on the market before you, see if I don't!" She looked over at the oblivious Vegeta. "At least my escort is a civilized person and a gentleman."

Bulma stilled and prayed that Vegeta wouldn't burp again. Or talk.

She bid Guma and Dr. Tsung a goodnight, trying to ignore the headache threatening to start right behind her eyes. Stress. There was too much stress in her life.

And now Dr. Tsung was joining with Guma Shinten. Despite her earlier words, Bulma wondered about the timetable on the new polymer. The man was a sleaze, and arrogant to boot. But despite not publishing lately, he was a brilliant scientist. Could he give Guma enough of a boost to get ahead of Capsule Corps' schedule?

"I do not care for that woman."

The gruff words startled Bulma, who hadn't even realized that Vegeta had noticed their visitors.

"We have always been rivals." Bulma sighed. "Her father's company versus my dad's. Her date versus my date. Her grades versus my grades."

Vegeta frowned. "Her date was a walking stick with no muscles, no power, and no hair."

Bulma smiled sadly. "Mine is a beefcake with no manners."

The Saiyan frowned sharply, knowing it hadn't been a compliment. "What's a beefcake? And my manners are perfect. I didn't break a single dish."

Bulma closed her eyes and rubbed her temples. Not breaking a dish? Yes. That seemed right for what passed as Saiyan manners. "No, you're right. All the dishes were in one piece."

"Now what is a beefcake? It sounds like food."

.III

Vegeta didn't even hesitate. He walked straight into her bedroom and took off his shirt as he headed to the bathroom.

Bulma sighed heavily and bent to pick up his shirt, putting it down inside the hamper. At least her headache was gone thanks to some extra-strength medication back at the restaurant.

But the pain in her butt was still here. And in her shower. Bulma shook her head as she heard the distinctive sounds of her personal Saiyan turning on the hot water.

She turned to grab her robe and stopped. There was a vase of tulips on her dresser. Tulips? Bulma smiled weakly and wondered what her mother was up to now. Knowing her mother, it could be anything. Still, the tulips were a nice change of pace from the daisies her mom had been stuck on lately.

Now. What to do about her Saiyan? Technically his things were still in her room, making it their room. She'd wager the last yen she had that he was expecting to sleep with her tonight.

She snorted softly. And why shouldn't he? Hadn't she halfway promised him sex to get him to take her to dinner? Like that had turned out well.

Bulma knew she needed to sleep somewhere else tonight. It would be best.

Only.

It had been two weeks without him ...and she wanted him. A lot. It pained her to admit it, even to herself. But her body just about ached for him. It was so trite. Weren't movie heroines always saying crap like that? 'I ache for you'. She'd always rolled her eyes or dismissed the thought.

Not now.

And she was on the pill now too. So. Safe as could be. Right? Somehow Bulma doubted that her heart was safe though.

Vegeta didn't know the difference between making love and sex. No clue. And she wanted to show him. Wanted to see his face as something other than arrogance graced his expression.

Only ...if she did that ...she'd have to keep him.

Bulma swallowed hard at the thought. To make love to someone, you needed to be IN love. Was she? No, she couldn't be.

Yet.

When the gravity chamber had exploded and she thought he might have died, her heart had skipped more than a few beats.

Strong arms wrapped around her from behind. Startled, she jumped a bit. Bulma blushed, she'd been so deep in thought that she'd not heard the shower turn off.

"What manner of daisies are these?" The Saiyan looked over her shoulder a the dresser.

"Tulips." She corrected automatically even as she stopped his hands from slipping under her skirt. "Don't ruin this dress, I like it."

Bulma heard him chuckle, then felt a stinging slap on her butt. "Then you take it off, woman."

She turned around to tell him off, and then dropped her jaw slightly. He hadn't bothered to put on any clothing. Not one stitch. Apparently modesty was NOT a culturally sensitive subject to Saiyan males.

"Expecting a lot are we?" She said snidely.

Vegeta frowned. "You said after the date we could have sex."

"Oh. A date? Is that what it was?" Her earlier thoughts about making-love to him dissipated in her irritation. "That wasn't a real date!"

He glowered at her angrily. "You were in charge of the date! If it was bad, it's your fault!"

Bulma threw up her hands in defeat. "Sure. Whatever. All my fault. Not the fact that you have absolutely no manners!"

Vegeta drew back with an affronted look. "I have perfect manners!"

"For a Saiyan!" She yelled.

"Of course for a Saiyan, I AM ONE!" He roared back.

Bulma stopped and stared at him. "You ...you're right." He looked so human most of the time that perhaps she'd lost track of one very important thing. He wasn't.

Vegeta nodded arrogantly.

Table manners. Gruff ways. Sloppy habits with dirty clothes. Sex. All of it. Bulma's mind fairly reeled. For a Saiyan, he was probably acting normally.

Even names. He called her woman, not her given name. And that was the Saiyan way.

Boldly experimenting, she called to him. "Man?" She said it softly, then caught her breath as his eyes sent her a burning look and stepped toward her. "Vegeta?" The same tone. But now he hesitated, as if she hadn't called him to her.

"Woman?" It was a question.

Bulma hesitated, but then nodded at him. "On Earth, it is more intimate to call a person by their given name. When I call you Vegeta, it's personal."

He shook his head at her. "Kakkarot and Picallo call me Vegeta. Your father calls me Vegeta. What are you saying?"

She shrugged and shook her head. "It's a matter of context and tone."

"My way is better." Vegeta informed her. "Now woman, are you getting undressed or not?"

Bulma looked at him and wondered.

Sleeping with him was a bad idea. Not sleeping with him made her feel like panicking. Should she fall in love with him? Could she? Or had she already?

That was a thought for later. For tonight, the question was more immediate. What should she do?

"Woman?"


	10. Royal Decree

"I should turn around and walk out of this room." Her voice was nearly whisper soft as she stared at the nude, and waiting, Saiyan.

Vegeta's mouth turned downward as he looked at her. He wanted to interrupt. To order. To simply take. But something in the way she was looking at him held him back. Barely. "You are my mate." It wasn't a question in his mind.

"Am I?" Bulma wondered, tilting her head to one side. "It's almost as if we are half-way married. Joined by one set of customs, but not by the second."

Vegeta scowled at that. "You refused to answer the man properly, woman!" He started to take a step toward her, then stopped as she held up one hand, palm out. "Then you made me go on that ridiculous date!"

Miffed, the turquoise-haired woman let his words slide over her. She let her temper fade though, this wasn't the time for anger. Bulma looked at her Saiyan lover. Really, really looked.

He was gorgeous. Muscular and cute and too hot for mere words. And he was impatient. She smiled as if she could see the contained energy in those delicious muscles, as if she could see the potential for movement before it even happened. He fairly thrummed with the need to move.

And he was hers. If she wanted him.

Bulma gave a soft smile that had Vegeta's gaze narrowing on her mouth. All of that! All that the Saiyan was and could be was hers ...if she accepted him. It was a heady thought. A Prince of a warrior race, this proud and arrogant male ...all hers.

But. But. But.

Could she handle him? Another soft smile. Like her lover, she didn't lack for arrogance either. If anyone could handle him, it would be her. Bulma reached one hand around to her side and under her arm to the hidden zipper. She could feel Vegeta's eyes follow her every move as she slowly, slowly slid the fastener down to her hip. The released cloth draped loosely now, but did not yet reveal anything.

"Woman!" Vegeta's voice had gone very husky. "You move too slow!" He was suddenly across the room and his hands were reaching for her dress.

Without forethought, Bulma slapped his hands. Vegeta stilled and stared at her, as if shocked she would do such a thing.

"My way." She whispered.

Vegeta shook his head, his eyebrows coming together in irritation. "You are not dominant, woman!"

Bulma backed off, she didn't want to challenge his dominance. Wait. No, his perceived dominance. Not tonight. Tomorrow, maybe. Not tonight though. Tonight was for something else. Something she needed and that Vegeta had no clue even existed.

"You promised me a date." She batted her eyelashes at him, trying a different approach.

Bulma could almost see the confusion in his expression, before he went still. His head moved back slightly as he looked at her. "We ate." He pointed out.

"You ate my dinner too." Bulma couldn't resist, then did a shimmy move that had the dress sliding down to catch on her hips. "But a date is more than food, and it's not over yet."

Vegeta's hands rose to cup her bra-covered bosom even as he frowned. "Earth dates are a pain."

Bulma stepped away from his touch and shook her head at him when he made as if to follow her retreat. "Vegeta, please. Earth customs tonight."

He frowned sharply. This was new territory for him, he'd never even thought of mating outside of his culture before. Fate had taken that choice from him, and put this gorgeous, but confusing, creature right in front of him.

She gave him a sensual smile. "Man? My man?"

Something hot and possessive shone out of his dark-eyed gaze. He frowned, even as he gave her an imperious nod.

"I'm not trying to take dominance. And I promise not to bite ...unless you ask." She teased him.

Vegeta reached for her, but she shook her head at him and he dropped his hands, scowling. She smiled and his frown faded as he watched her push the dress down over her hips.

Bulma watched as his body showed her his reaction to seeing her in her lingerie and high heels. Some things didn't need to be translated after all. Need was need.

"Don't touch." She gave the order in the softest tone possible, even as she stepped in close to him.

Vegeta scowled. "Woman? I don't understand what ...omph!" He looked down at where she was tracing lines around one of his male nipples. Her face looked up at him. "What are you doing?"

"Dating you." She lied blatantly. "Earth custom."

He shook his head slightly, not being quite that gullible. "More like 'Bulma custom'."

She smiled wickedly at him and then pressed a kiss to his chest, making him suck in a deep breath. "I need this Vegeta ...Man. My Saiyan. My warrior."

The Saiyan Prince stopped his hands before they could grab the enticing creature so close in his reach. Claiming words. Not really necessary for the Saiyan mating rituals, but soothing to his senses. He hadn't even realized that he needed to hear those types of endearments until she said them.

Fighting every base instinct he had, Vegeta let his hands drop down to cup her hips. But he didn't take, grab, or pounce as would be his wont. His woman seemed to need this, and he needed her. "Just tonight." He ordered hoarsely. "And then you're mine."

Bulma heard the words, and knew they would be problematic for her in the morning. But unless the Red Ribbon Army attacked tonight, she wasn't stopping. After tonight, they would be truly mated, even if she hadn't made it official with Earth customs. After tonight? She'd not be able to give him back.

Drawing in a deep breath, smelling his skin as she licked his collarbone, she nearly purred. As if she'd want to give him back!

Bulma arched her back to look up into his face. He looked arrogant, and pleased. She winked at him before reaching behind her to loosen his grip. She watched as he started to frown. Bulma reached up with one hand and smoothed one side of his mouth before drawing him closer for a long, drawn out kiss.

Vegeta's natural instincts tried to take over, but every time his kiss started to get too possessive, she pulled back. After the fourth time, he growled at her, baring his teeth.

"My night." She reminded him, and Vegeta drew back, though repressed temper fairly roiled off his skin.

"Get on with your night, woman!"

"No." She teased and pushed him. He didn't move, his balance not even challenged. She sighed. "Sit down ...Man." It felt so awkward calling him like that. But there was no denying the effects it had on her Saiyan.

Vegeta gave her a long, disbelieving look. "Tonight." He informed her, letting her know that she wouldn't be able to order him around after their 'date'.

"Tonight." She vowed and pushed him again. He didn't fall, but he did look around and smiled darkly as he let go of her to go sit on the edge of the bed.

He beckoned to her. Bulma shook her head and reached behind her back to unhook her bra. It wasn't exactly a strip-tease, but she did move tantalizingly slow.

Vegeta groaned as she revealed herself at a snail's pace. He was wanting to grab her, his palms fairly itched with the need to move. To possess. "Woman." It was a plea.

Melting a bit at the vulnerability he was allowing her to see, she tossed the bra aside and hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her matching panties.

He stopped breathing. It wasn't as if he'd not seen her nude before. But this type of display was certainly not a Saiyan custom. Displays of fighting prowess was more the cultural norm. More battlefield pairings happened than any other place.

Slowly. Too slowly, his woman dragged that last scrap of clothing down her hips, revealing her most intimate self to him. And yet she was still wearing those ridiculous shoes. No Saiyan female would be caught dead in something so useless on the fighting fields.

Yet. They made her legs seem to go on forever. Vegeta eyed his mate with pleasure, and even with some pride. She wasn't a warrior, but she was beyond gorgeous to him. And she was his. And look at the way she'd managed to bully a night of playing dominant from him ...he had to admit, she was clever his woman.

"Now?" It wasn't begging, but it was uncomfortably close. Vegeta cleared his throat. "Now!"

Bulma shook her head and licked her lips. Vegeta stilled. What was she planning?

"Lay down, please." Her voice was a siren's song and it took a moment for the words to actually register.

She could almost see the moment he realized she'd ordered him around, again. His brows snapped together and she smiled. "I already promised, no biting. In fact? Lay down on your stomach. Pretty please?"

Vegeta scowled at her, but he had promised her the evening. Not that he always kept to his word. A lot of races out there thought Saiyans had no honor, because they didn't keep to what they promised. What those other races didn't realize? That to Saiyans, they only needed to keep their word ...to each other. No other race really counted. It wasn't a question of honor, but of respect. If the Saiyan's didn't respect you? You could forget it.

But this was different. And she was his mate. His wife.

Scowling harshly, Vegeta rolled over to lie on the bed, reaching down to adjust himself more comfortably. He turned his head to carefully watch his mate. Just what was she up to?

Bulma took the lotion from her night stand, wishing it was body oil. But then, she'd not planned this night out in advance and you had to make do with what was on hand.

Vegeta felt his woman moving to straddle him, settling down nearly on his butt. He frowned, then caught his breath as he felt her hands ...on his back. A massage? "I'm not injured, woman." He said it more softly than he'd intended.

"Is being injured the only reason for touching like this?" She leaned down and pressed a kiss to one of his shoulder blades.

The Saiyan grunted rather than answering. Yes. Massages were for after battle or when injured. Touching like this wasn't ...well, done. His eyes closed as she found a place on his back and pressed, eliciting a pleasurable feeling deep within him.

"I could like this Earth custom." He muttered in a deep voice. The Saiyan decided he liked his woman touching him. Unlike females from his own species, she wasn't about to attack or to try and wrest dominance from him. He hadn't realized how tiring relationships were for his race ...until now.

Saiyan women were battle companions. They mated for children. Strong children. And they chose their mates accordingly. To show this soft side? Would have been asking for a fight. Softness or caring never entered into it at all. Oh, they could grow fond of their mates. But it was an unsaid thing. Never acknowledged.

A groan escaped him as she found another knot in his back. This was good. He smiled grimly, but it wasn't enough. He wanted more and his body was hurting with the need to roll over and take.

That was when her fingers found his lower back.

Vegeta went very, very still. This was not where he would have ever allowed a female from his species to be. Near his tail. He remembered how even Bulma had used the healed-over spot where his tail had once been to try and get him to let her go.

It was still a sensitive area. He thought about telling her to stop, but ...didn't. For reasons he wasn't even sure of himself, he wanted to know what she would do.

Bulma gently rubbed lotion around the healed over place on her lover. Her fingers were caressing as they traced the circle that had once been a tail that marked him as distinctly 'non-human'.

Beneath her fingers, his body trembled. She paused. "Does that hurt?"

Vegeta clenched his teeth and fought hard not to move. Yes it hurt. But not in the way of a wound, but a sensual pain that he'd never knew existed.

She leaned down and kissed the spot tenderly and he pounced.

Bulma squeaked and squealed as she was unceremoniously dumped to one side and then her Saiyan Prince grabbed her, pushing her under him as he settled himself between her thighs.

"MINE!" It was a statement, an affirmation.

She reached for him, and then drew back as his teeth snapped at her hand. She watched his face as he adjusted his angle, and then slid deeply inside her body, Bulma gasped and arched her back though keeping her eyes on his face.

"Yours." She said it quietly, but his eyes snapped up to meet hers and he growled at her. "Yours." She repeated. Something triumphant looked back at her. This time when she reached up to touch his face, he let her.

He drew back and she took a deep breath. "Slow, Vegeta. Slower."

The Saiyan scowled sharply, disappointed almost.

Bulma settled her hands on his shoulders. "My Saiyan, my man ..."

"Mine!" He groaned and pushed back inside her all the way. Bulma opened herself up to him and held him to her. She could almost feel him trembling even as he took possession of her body. "I need ... I want ..."

He was almost agitated as he rode her body, bringing delicious feelings to her, but it was almost too hard, too fast.

Bulma turned her head to one side, grimacing a bit at the sheer power of his thrusts.

Vegeta, not really thinking, sensed the small movement ...and what it presented.

Bulma yelled out as he bit her neck, and then went still.

Hesitantly, she reached around him and held him, nearly petting his back as he held still. His body was still impaling hers, throbbing deeply inside her ...but not moving.

And he still had his teeth in her as well.

The trembling had stopped though. She held him as he calmed and she realized the biting was like a touchstone for him. It made everything all right in his world.

Bulma began stroking his back and Vegeta let go of her neck to look down into her face. Slowly, while watching her, he began again. This time in control, he drew his hips back slowly and then forged forward once more, eliciting strange noises from his mate as she arched her back to accept him.

This went on for a long time and Bulma, glowing with sweat and gasping for air, wasn't sure if she was going to survive! Every nerve she had was on fire with pleasure and she'd come apart at the seams once already, but he was still going and she was building to a second peak.

Maybe she did need to be a Saiyan female to have the stamina to survive!

Bulma scratched at his back while panting. Finally she slapped his shoulder. "Now, Vegeta! Harder! Faster!"

The Saiyan groaned and smiled down at his needy wife. "Slower, harder, faster? Woman, make up your mind!" Even as he spoke, he increased the pace and knew that he wasn't far from finishing. It only took a few more ragged thrusts before he felt his body begin to tighten.

The woman beneath him screamed out her pleasure as he himself came apart while deep within her body. He roared his approval and the two collapsed together.

.III

Dr. Briefs was down in the basement, oblivious. While he'd not yet soundproofed his daughter's room, his workshop was another story. That had been done years ago when late-night inspiration would strike and he hadn't wanted to wake the entire house with mechanical noises.

A tap at the door had one of the household bots scurrying to answer.

Dr. Briefs put down his tools as his wife carried him a small snack before bed. He smiled at her as she fussed with his food and tea.

"Did you discover something new today, dear?" The pretty blonde smiled adoringly at her husband.

He chuckled. "No, but I'm closing in on that new polymer we've been working on. Won't be much longer now. It'll make a big difference in minimizing medical supplies so they don't lose their effectiveness so quickly."

"How marvelous!" His wife clapped happily. "Will it help flowers not to wilt so fast?"

The good doctor sipped his tea and shook his head. "Sorry, my dear. That's different."

"Oh! Well, I need something to keep tulips from wilting so quickly." She frowned slightly, but it didn't last.

"Not unless you want to minimize them into a capsule." Dr. Briefs smiled at his wife as she offered him a second cup of tea. "No, dear. I'm good."

"Mini-tulips?" The blonde smiled. "You can put them in so many more places if you shrink them down!"

Dr. Briefs shook his head, sure he was going to find tulip-holding capsules everywhere now. "What happened to daisies?" He asked, even as he turned back to his desk and picked up his tools.

"Too plain." The pretty blonde nodded almost thoughtfully. "For someone so alive and vibrant, the daisies could only work a little bit. For someone with such energy there needed to be more color!"

Dr. Briefs nodded, paying attention with only part of his mind. "Good thinking. Vegeta isn't from here. He needs a flower to represent that he is different."

Silence.

He'd soldered three small areas, and had completely rewired a piece of equipment before turning and then he stopped. Dr. Briefs stared at his pretty wife.

She was thinking.

He could tell because she was quiet. Alarm bells went off in the back of his head. This didn't happen often. He'd seen that look only twice. Right before she decided he was going to marry her, and again right before he found himself with a pregnant wife.

Suddenly she smiled brightly and rushed over to cover his face with kisses. "You are so smart! I have the most marvelous husband in all the world!"

Blushing, he let her smother him with praise and kisses. He loved this, actually. Still, he wasn't sure what he'd done this time to get such a reaction.

"I thought the tulips were for Bulma! Now I know I need one for that big, strong husband of hers! No wonder it's not been working right!" The lovely blonde jumped up and ran to the door. Then grinned and ran back for the tray she'd left behind. "Now! What kind of flower do you think? For him?"

Dr. Briefs shook his head and smiled. "I see bigger bills from the florist." But he said it tenderly. "I don't think that Vegeta is a flower type of guy though. Nor will flowers influence their relationship, dear."

But his wife was talking a mile a minute as she headed for the door. "Bird of Paradise? Lilies? Lavender? Orchids? Are Orchids exotic enough? Do they say nursery to you?"

Nursery? Dr. Briefs smiled to himself as his wife left the room in a whirlwind of ideas. Poor Bulma.

Then he thought of the flowers his wife was planning.

Perhaps it wasn't going to be poor Bulma. Maybe he should save his sympathies for a certain Saiyan warrior.

Because, while pretty and naive and sweet, and without a mean bone or thought in her body ...somehow, someway ...she always managed to get what she wanted. And he thanked heaven every day that she'd wanted him.

.III

Vegeta tried to look at his mate, but her hair was sticking to her face. He reached out to push the fall of turquoise tresses away from the side of her face. Blue eyes blinked sleepily at him.

Satiated, he gave her a long look. "Is the date over?"

Bulma nodded, limp with exhaustion and something deeply satisfying.

"Will you tell the man yes now?"

Staring into his dark eyes, it was very hard not to simply give in. Bulma took a deep breath. "Will you tell me how to get a divorce in your customs?"

He frowned sharply. "You want to end our mating?"

"No."

Vegeta calmed, though he still looked irritated. "Why do you want to know?"

She gave him a weak smile. "It's a way of saying you trust me. Without biting."

Trust? Vegeta stared at her for a long moment, then grunted. What could it hurt? It was a trick question anyway. "There are three ways to end a Saiyan mating."

Bulma blinked. He was giving in? She started to feel like crying. He was trusting her! Maybe this would all work out after all!

"Death by challenge. Find someone stronger to challenge your mate. Have him killed by a traditional Challenge Duel." Vegeta gave her a long look. "Good luck with that one."

Bulma gave him a weak smile. "Strike that one off the list."

He grunted arrogantly.

Bulma suddenly leaned up and stared at him. "Have you ever done that? Or been mated before? Do you have children already with someone?" Then her eyes got really wide. "Did you have children?" Had Frieza destroyed them? She asked without saying his name.

"Be calm, woman." Vegeta yawned. "You are my first and only mate."

Bulma settled back down, though now feeling a little unsettled. As if sensing her change of mood, her Saiyan reached for her and dragged her closer to his warmth. She leaned her head onto his shoulder as his arms wrapped around her. It was nice, she decided.

"That's an ancient tradition though. The usual way to end a mating is to appeal to the ruling council of elders. They would hear the reasons and make a decision." Vegeta held his wife and wondered if she realized that no Saiyan woman liked to be held like this. It was nice, he thought.

Bulma shook her head. "I'm sorry, about what Frieza did." But with no more Saiyans, there was of course no more elder council to appeal to.

Vegeta nodded and gave her a small hug to show he'd heard.

"Those are both out of the question." Bulma yawned, completely spent. "Is there a way that IS possible?"

Vegeta grinned up at the ceiling, knowing she couldn't see his expression. He was going to relish this moment forever. He couldn't wait to hear her reaction. "Yes. There is one way you can still divorce me, woman."

Bulma waited, but he didn't continue. She pinched his chest and and laughed. "Well?"

Vegeta rolled his wife onto her back and rose up over her, looking down into her face. He smiled. She blinked, suddenly suspicious. "You could appeal to the royal family. Ask them to grant you a divorce from your mate. A royal decree is all you need."

He watched her face eagerly, and wasn't disappointed.

Shock, disbelief and then she reared up and screamed at him. "I have to ask YOU to grant me a divorce?"

"Begging would help." He teased her, completely without mercy.

Her blue eyes got really big as she gaped at him.

"But it wouldn't work." Vegeta leaned in smugly to give her a hard kiss, before drawing back. "Your request is officially denied."

She sputtered and then threatened him with a fist. He chuckled, incensing her completely! "I haven't even asked!"

Vegeta scooted up to the head of the bed, leaned against the headboard and casually put his hands behind his head. Looking utterly relaxed. "Ask." He gave her an arch look.

"It wouldn't do me a bit of good!" She hissed at him.

"No." He admitted with a grin. "It wouldn't."

Suddenly he reached out with one hand and dragged her to him, so she was draped over his body. "Do you really want to ask?"

Bulma stopped. Did she want to ask? No. It was just the injustice of him being in control that had her upset. "No." She said, then moved to get off the bed.

Vegeta frowned. "Where are you going? You are my mate!"

"I need a shower." She groused, then stopped him as he made as if to get up with her. "Alone." Then she turned to give him a long look. "And stop making divorce option number one look good."

The Saiyan snarled after her.


	11. Bunny Pancakes

It had been a relatively quiet three weeks since Vegeta had returned. Relatively being the key word. The two of them fought, made up, fought, had sex, and fought some more. All in the small moments when the Saiyan wasn't training for hours on end.

Bulma smiled almost wistfully as she watched her Saiyan mate scowl at the flowers adorning the breakfast table. "And what type of flowers are these? Where's the food?"

"Oh dear, the pancakes are ready!" Bulma's mother bustled into the room carrying a tray filled with bunny, kitty, and what looked like misshapen bird pancakes. All had powdered sugar and fresh fruit all over them.

"Begonias." Bulma crinkled her nose. "I think. I don't really know for sure."

Dr. Briefs wandered into the room while reading some papers. He absently sat down at the table at his usual place and picked up his fork. His daughter watched, bemused, as the man tried to spear some food onto the utensil and bring it to his mouth. She smiled when she saw the dawning confusion on her father's face as he realized there was nothing on his fork.

"What happened to my breakfast?" Dr. Briefs looked confused as he stared at where his plate SHOULD be.

His wife smiled and handed Vegeta the syrup, which he poured all over his huge stack of animal-shaped pancakes.

The good doctor groaned as he saw all the food in front of the Saiyan. He looked over at his daughter with a sad face. "Did you get any breakfast at least?"

Bulma silently showed him her half-empty bowl of oatmeal. She hated oatmeal.

Both father and daughter turned to watch as the Saiyan finished off the first humongous stack of pancakes as a certain blonde swept the plate away only to replace it with one filled with eggs, bacon and toast.

Dr. Brief's mouth watered, and the small black kitty riding on his right shoulder 'meowed' plaintively for good measure. The man sighed and then blinked at the jungle of flowers crowding the table. He looked over at his daughter and shrugged, as if giving up.

Bulma straightened up and waved her hands in the air to get her mother's attention. "What's with the flowers?" Her mother didn't usually hang on to an idea with this much tenacity. "Did you empty the nursery?"

The pretty blonde smiled winningly and clapped her hands. "Oh, they are to FILL the nursery!" Then she fairly ran from the room to get Vegeta some more food.

"Fill the nursery?" Bulma laughed and took a bite of her oatmeal. "She probably bought out all the nurseries in town by now."

Dr. Briefs looked longingly at the disappearing food on Vegeta's plate and shook his head. "Darling, I think your mother is trying to fill a more traditional nursery."

"Huh?" Bulma looked confused.

"Have you seen your mother's craft room lately?" Dr. Briefs got up and went over to the sideboard to pick up an apple. "Drat. It's plastic."

"No." Bulma shook her head, making a face at her oatmeal. "All mother tells me is that this stuff is good for me!"

Dr. Briefs nodded as he headed for the kitchen, just as his wife came out with a fresh tray. The hungry man was able to snitch a single pancake off the top before she was able to get it to the table. He waved the purloined piece of food like a trophy.

"Your mother is trying to get you and your husband to have a baby. THAT type of nursery." Dr. Briefs rolled up the pancake and ate it with relish as his poor daughter suddenly choked on her oatmeal.

Bulma, red in the face, slapped her hands palms down on the table. Vegeta didn't even pause while eating. The turquoise-haired woman yelled and then took a deep breath. "Flowers won't work! I'm not having a baby before I'm ready! And it doesn't matter what kind of flowers you bring into the house, they won't change my mind!"

Her mother, blonde curls perfectly coiffed despite her running around, blinked rapidly. "Flowers won't work? Are you absolutely sure, dear? Not even daisies?"

Bulma grimaced. "I can't stay here. I'm going out to do some shopping. This is a poisonous environment!"

Dr. Briefs chuckled as he watched his daughter flounce off. "Oh dear." The small black kitty purred on his shoulder and he absently reached up to pet it. "See? Kitty agrees too."

.III

Thirty hours later, the next morning, Vegeta was in a foul mood. He'd broken all the small bots used in the gravity chamber. He was tired. He was hungry. And he didn't want to stop training. But the servos were overheating and all the bots needed major repairs.

He'd been training in 400x Earth gravity and every muscle in his body was beyond hurting. Damn it! He should be stronger by now! Three weeks. Three weeks training in the updated and improved gravity chamber and he wasn't yet a Super Saiyan! What the hell would it take?

When he could get back in the chamber, he'd up the difficulty rating. Sweat trickled into his left eye and he growled as he wiped it away carelessly. Perhaps some food, a shower and a nap. A smile ticked up the right side of his mouth. And perhaps a lively fight with his mate. She was infuriating, but also invigorating. Trading barbs with her would put him in a better mood.

Sex would work too.

Vegeta grinned darkly.

"Hello handsome." The sensual slide of the voice made Vegeta grit his teeth.

He spun and spied the woman in the curve-hugging dress. The Saiyan frowned. She wasn't his mate, and he'd not realized she was there. Sensing her power, he snorted. No wonder. There was pitiful little to sense in the first place.

The strange woman straightened up and held out her hand, palm down. "Guma Shinten. We met nearly a month ago." She licked her lips. "And aren't you the strong, handsome, silent type?"

Bulma was coming around the corner to confront Vegeta in the gravity chamber. How dare he disconnect the communication system in there just because he thought she was 'pestering' him! She was only looking out for his best interests! And she was not a shrew, no matter what he'd said in that last conversation!

"I love a man who knows how to work up a good sweat." She dropped her hand when the handsome half-naked brute didn't take the cue.

Bulma skidded to a stop, mouth agape. She watched as Guma Shinten, her long-time rival, came on to Vegeta. Her heart sank as she saw him staring at the other woman's impressive cleavage. Sudden memories poured in of Yamcha looking at other women. Not that he'd ever cheated, but he'd looked. He'd always looked. Bile rose up in her throat.

Guma faked surprise. "Oh Bulma, darling! My dear friend. I came to borrow a cup of sugar."

Bulma gritted her teeth, her stomach rolled with nausea. "You live ten miles away."

"A cup of plasma infused coils?" Guma shrugged, making her top lower a bit.

Bulma groaned as Vegeta's eyes followed the cloth as it dropped. "VEGETA!"

Guma grinned, sensing a small victory. She did a small hair-flip and batted her eyelashes.

The Saiyan looked up. "Her breasts don't move." He looked puzzled.

Bulma choked for a second, and needed a moment to regain her composure. Then she gave a real smile. "That's because they're fake."

Guma's face went red. This wasn't right!

"Fake?" Vegeta sneered. "What's the point?"

Bulma leaned against the wall, her earlier hurt fading away. Nausea gave way to near euphoria. "To make an inadequate figure more enticing to men."

Dark eyes widened. "Earth men are attracted to plastic bumps that don't move?"

Surreptitiously Guma tugged her top back up in a vain effort to hide her cleavage. Bulma just hoped the other woman didn't start to wonder why Vegeta had used the term 'Earth men'.

"That's nonsense. You are attempting to make a joke." Vegeta tossed his sweat soaked towel to Guma, who caught it automatically, then cringed at the odor. She dropped it to the ground and made gagging noises. The Saiyan turned and stared at her. "I thought you said you liked sweat."

"She lied." Bulma pursed her lips together, hard. It was really difficult not to laugh right now.

Vegeta walked into the house, his muscular buttocks clearly defined by the skin-tight work-out shorts. "Lying with her mouth and her body. Again I ask, what's the point?" He sounded so bored and so disgusted Bulma could have kissed him on the spot!

Instead, she turned to watch Guma Shinten try and salvage the situation.

"He has no manners. At the table or when talking to a lady!"

Bulma shrugged. "When was he talking to a lady? I thought that was just you he was speaking with."

Guma stamped one foot and Bulma giggled as she watched. "He's right! I never noticed before but when you stamp your foot like that? Your boobs don't move!"

"In ten years your breasts will be to your waist!" Guma shouted like a fishwife.

Bulma shrugged. "I'll deal with that then. For right now? I have all the plasma coils. I have the handsome husband. And I have a real figure." She paused and laughed for a moment. "And I have the company that will be first to present the new polymer to the market. You can forget about trying to seduce Vegeta into telling you anything."

"H ...husband?" Guma looked shocked. Then she laughed nastily. "You married a brute with no manners at all? How undignified! How ...desperate of you!"

Bulma straighted up. "You'd better leave before I sic the bots on you." She turned to head into the house and then looked back. "He's a prince, by the way. And he's mine. Hand's off, or you'll lose them."

She went into the house and shut the door on a stuttering rival.

Vegeta was leaning against the wall, arms crossed. He grinned mockingly at her. "Your prince wants you to wash his back."

Bulma raised one eyebrow and then smiled. "Do I get to do more than that?"

His grin widened as his mood improved drastically.

.III

It was past mid-afternoon when Bulma opened her eyes, then stretched, feeling all the lovely aches and pains of really good sex. She grinned as she felt the sting along the skin of her neck. She was going to have to invest in a lot of scarves if her Saiyan kept biting her like that.

Thinking of her Saiyan, Bulma turned over and saw him staring up a the ceiling. His hands were behind his head and he did not look happy.

Bulma's good mood faded around the edges. "What are you thinking about?" She asked gently.

"Kakarot." He snapped out the name like a curse.

The turquoise-haired woman sighed and sat up, wrapping her arms around her knees. "Why do you do this to yourself? You will kill yourself training like this! All to beat Goku? Your rivalry has no point."

Vegeta sneered and cut his eyes to look over at her. "Oh? Like your rivalry with that fake bosomed woman has a point?" He laughed roughly. "I am of the warrior caste. I have the royal blood. How could he reach Super Saiyan before me?"

Bulma frowned. "It's not the same." She protested, though she had a feeling she was wrong. "Okay fine. But you'll kill yourself training like you do!"

The Saiyan shrugged. "So?"

The young woman sat up, appalled. "What the hell do you mean by 'so' you idiot?"

Vegeta grabbed her and rolled her onto her back, staring into her face. "Don't call me an idiot, you idiotic woman!"

"You are so frustrating!" She screamed into his face.

He scowled down at her. "I have nothing if I am not the best!"

Bulma's big blue eyes blinked several times as she fought not to tear up. And here she'd felt so good about their relationship earlier. "I'm nothing?"

Vegeta drew back. "Don't put words in my mouth, woman! You are my mate! And I would take you into battle any day! So don't say you are nothing!"

Bulma let out a loud screech and slapped his chest with her palm. "Why should I have a baby with a man trying to kill himself?"

But if she was expecting a reaction, she was disappointed. Vegeta had suddenly gone completely still.

Bulma took advantage and shoved him, more than a bit surprised when he didn't resist and let her scramble out of bed and onto her feet. She grabbed her robe and wrapped it around herself, then spun and pointed her finger in his face.

She opened her mouth, but couldn't think of a thing to say. So she shut her mouth again and spun on her heels to run into the bathroom. Vegeta watched her slam the door. Then she immediately opened it again and marched back over to him, again putting her finger in his face.

"And another thing! If you kill yourself, I won't cry at the funeral!" She spun back around and stomped into the bathroom, slamming the door again.

Vegeta dropped back onto the bed and scowled at the ceiling. Then he gave a wry grin. Not cry at his funeral? To a Saiyan it would be more insulting to cry than not to cry! Silly woman. Crying showed that there were regrets, that the warrior hadn't left his all on the battlefield. His woman didn't realize she'd not insulted him with that one.

His grin faded. Just like she had no idea what he'd told her. The words had slipped out of him from no where. Take her into battle? Laughable. Only, the phrase wasn't meant to be taken literally. To a Saiyan that phrase was the highest of honors, even when it wasn't literally true. It meant ... it meant ...

Vegeta groaned and threw an arm over his eyes. It meant that he was in trouble.

.IIII

Bulma's mother looked from one sour expression to the other and threw up her hands in despair. "I shouldn't have gotten rid of the orders for more flowers!"

Dr. Briefs patted her shoulder in order to comfort her. "Dear, I told you ...flowers won't influence their relationship." He looked ruefully around the room, sighing at the number of vases. "And I think we still have quite a few flowers around here."

But the pretty blonde wasn't so sure. "But without more flowers they ...they are becoming more miserable!"

Bulma shook her head as she bent over one of the damaged bots from the gravity chamber. "Would you tell Mr. Vegeta that his constant looking over my shoulder won't get these things fixed any faster?"

The Saiyan growled, not liking the way she was addressing him at all. "And would you explain to my wife that I think she's sabotaging the bots on purpose to keep me from training?"

Neither Dr. Briefs or his wife spoke, knowing the two combatants could hear each other perfectly well without an intermediary.

"Well, you can tell that nasty old warrior that I won't be bringing his child into this world, if he doesn't learn how to treat people with respect!" The young woman soldered the wrong piece and screamed, making everyone jump.

"Old? Tell your precious daughter that she will give me a son before she turns OLD and unable to fight!" Vegeta fumed.

Bulma whipped off the protective glasses she was wearing. "That insult doesn't even make sense!"

"It would if you were Saiyan!" He growled at her.

"You mean if I were perfect!" She screamed back.

Bulma's mother suddenly put a tray down between the two. "Chocolate cream puffs? Tea? Tart?"

Vegeta gave a nasty grin and leaned back. "No thank you, I'm already married to a tart."

Bulma's blue eyes bulged with temper and she grabbed a cream puff and threw it at him. It missed by a mile. A small bot scurried out from under a couch and began to tidy up the small mess.

"I am not a floozy!" Bulma shrieked. "And I don't cheat!"

Vegeta frowned sharply. "I thought it just meant you were sour by nature."

Bulma panted for a moment and then nodded. "Okay then."

Dr. Briefs looked over at his wife. "Perhaps we should leave the children to their argument."

But Bulma's mom looked worried as she wrung her hands. Then she brightened. "I've got it!"

Everyone looked over at the blonde as she smiled. "It's the atmosphere! It is poisoned!"

"By too many flowers." Vegeta mumbled, and Bulma nodded.

"True love and a full nursery can not bloom in a place like this! It must change!"

Dr. Briefs smiled. "Yes dear." Then he sputtered as she snagged his ever present cigarette and tossed it in Bulma's untouched tea.

"Mom?" Bulma looked alarmed.

Vegeta stared. "Is she having a fit? Do we need a medical kit?"

"No more smoking! It's bad for the health of their relationship!" Bulma's mother scurried over to the tray of goodies. "And these are full of fats and preserves!"

"Do you mean preservatives?" Bulma asked weakly.

Dr. Briefs pulled out a package of cigarettes. Vegeta grinned when Bulma's mother grabbed them and tossed them to a cleaning bot. "Burn those!"

"I'll burn them for you, dear. One at a time ..." Dr. Briefs looked at his wife hopefully. But she was already moving to the window. "Dear?"

Bulma's eyes were huge as she watched her mother toss vase after vase of expensive flowers out the window. "Mom? What are you doing?"

"Don't stop her. We can be flower-free soon." Vegeta hissed at her.

"I'm still mad at you." Bulma said without heat.

"I know." Vegeta smiled. "And you're still an idiot."

Bulma's mother looked around the room, but saw no more vases. Everyone relaxed, until she grabbed the small black kitty that Dr. Briefs carried around with him everywhere.

'Meow?'

"Cats can cause allergies and poison the atmosphere." The blonde looked unsure.

Dr. Briefs looked like he was in shock.

Vegeta started laughing.

Bulma rushed to her mother and took the small cat back. "Not this one. This is a special allergy free kitty." Carefully she returned the small creature to her grateful father.

Vegeta wandered over to hear and leaned in to whisper, "you lied to your mother."

The young woman nodded. "At least my curves are all real."

"Indeed."

There was a large amount of heat in his voice. Bulma looked askance at him. "You called me an idiot."

Vegeta snagged her hand and pulled her into his body, wrapping his arms around her. "You called me one too." He reminded her.

Bulma leaned in and rested her head on his muscular chest.

"You train too much."

"You talk too much." He retorted without rancor.

"Still want to take me into battle?" She teased.

Vegeta deliberately didn't answer THAT particular question. "Let's go make a son." He changed the subject.

"What if it's a daughter?" Bulma suggested.

He squeezed her in protest. "Woman, you will give me a son!"

She leaned back and looked him in the eyes. "That's not something even the almighty Saiyan Prince can control."

He scowled and she laughed.

Bulma's mother watched happily while Dr. Briefs tried to unsuccessfully rescue his cigarettes from the household bots he himself had created.


	12. Carrying On

"Hello?"

Bulma thought about hanging up the moment the other woman answered. Her hand even started to reach out to click down with the receiver.

"Hello? Is anyone there?" The voice sounded nice, if a bit irritated.

"It's Bulma, Chi Chi." The turquoise-haired young woman said, committing herself to the phone call.

"Oh! Hello there." Chi Chi answered a bit snippy. "Goku's not here right now. Neither is Gohan. They're all out doing 'important' things and can't be bothered to stay here and help me out. Or study! Oh, those boys! I just know Gohan will be behind in school once vacation is over!"

Bulma shrugged helplessly, even if the other woman couldn't see her. "Is there something you need help with?" She asked, more to avoid the reason she was calling in the first place.

Chi Chi laughed a bit sadly somewhat. "No. I just ...well, it would be nice if we had a car. I'm so tired of being the only one around here without a vehicle, and walking back and forth from the house for fresh food all the time? Goku doesn't even seem to notice! And Piccolo is always here, so I'm having to cook extra ...which means carrying extra food every time I go shopping too!"

Bulma smiled at Chi Chi's small rant as she leaned against the wall. Finally, an easy problem to solve. Unlike her own. "Make Goku get a car. Simple." She suggested.

The other woman sighed sadly. "But he doesn't have a driver's license."

Dr. Briefs' daughter shrugged and blithely made a suggestion that would complicate her friend Goku's life. "Send him to driving school."

There was a long pause and then Bulma could almost hear the smile on Chi Chi's face. "I'll send them BOTH to driving school! Thank you!"

Both? Oh. Piccolo. Bulma smiled at the very idea.

"Did you want to leave a message for Goku, dear?" Chi Chi asked.

Bulma shook her head and then took a deep breath. "Actually, I called to talk to you."

"Oh?" Goku's wife sounded a bit surprised. "How nice, and how are you?"

Pregnant. Maybe. Bulma bit her tongue. Then finally forced out her question. "Look, all my friends are either single or don't have children, so I can't ask them."

Chi Chi nearly cooed. "Oh my dear, are you and Yamcha going to get married and finally start a family!"

She sounded so excited that Bulma hated to tell her no. "Uhm, not exactly. We broke up."

"Again?" Chi Chi blew off the answer. "You two always make up!"

"Not this time." Bulma said dryly, not mentioning her connection with a certain Saiyan Prince. After all, Vegeta had tried to kill Goku and Gohan. Chi Chi probably didn't like him much right now.

"Well, I'm sorry to hear that. He's a nice young man." Chi Chi said comfortingly.

Bulma nodded. "Yes, yes he is." But not an exciting one, not compared to Vegeta. She blushed, what an awful thing to say, even in the privacy of her own mind. "But, a friend of mine wants to ...I mean, how did you find out you were pregnant? And how long did you carry Gohan?"

Chi Chi fell silent on the other end of the telephone. "Bulma? Are you pregnant? Is that why Yamcha left? Why that bastard!" She roared and suddenly Bulma remembered that the other woman was more than just a wife and a mother, but also a fighting force to be reckoned with all on her own.

Her eyes went huge. "NO! No, I'm not pregnant!" She hoped. "And Yamcha wouldn't have done that!"

"No, no, of course not." Chi Chi settled down, the fires of righteous fury banking back downwards. Then she took a deep, steadying breath. "But I don't know that I can answer any questions for you. The usual amount of time for a pregnancy is nine months, of course. But Gohan was late! After ten months they went ahead with a C-section."

Ten months? Bulma nodded, relieved. Not too bad.

"But my precious baby boy still looked a bit small, as if he wasn't quite ready yet! Of course I didn't know Goku was a Saiyan at the time. If we ever have another baby, I won't be letting them talk me into a C-section so early. Who knows how long it takes a Saiyan to grow? Goku has no clue of course." She paused thoughtfully. "Perhaps that awful Vegeta would know. He's staying out around your place, isn't he?"

Bulma squeaked out a whispered, "yes."

"Perhaps you can ask him how long Saiyan's carry their children." Suddenly Chi Chi laughed. "What am I saying? You don't need to know THAT! No need to go anywhere near that villain! Here I am, rambling on and on. The answer to your question about your friend is nine months."

"Thank you." The turquoise-haired woman said weakly.

Chi Chi laughed. "You don't need to know about my experiences, trust me. Oh the fuss those doctors made about a simple tail!"

Tail. Tail? TAIL? Bulma's mouth dropped open as Chi Chi continued her tale. Tale? Blue eyes closed in desperation. How bad was it when you felt like crying over your own bad puns?

.III

"The party is tonight!" Bulma's mother spun in a circle, her beautiful dress spinning delicately around her like a cloud. "I do love a party!"

Dr. Briefs paused and looked up from his work to blink at his pretty wife. "Dear? It's hours before we need to leave. You're ready too soon." He blinked suddenly and looked over at his clock, then frowned. "No, I didn't lose track of the time. It really is too early."

"But I can't wait!" Cooed the blonde as she pointed to the hanging tuxedo on the hook behind the door. "And you will look so handsome in that!"

The good doctor shook his head. "This party is nothing more than a nuisance."

His wife frowned slightly, but frowning was generally foreign to her and it faded immediately. "It's to announce the marriage between Vegeta and our lovely Bulma!"

Dr. Briefs nodded and silently rubbed the head of the little black kitty clinging to his shoulder. Finally he shook his head. "Bulma doesn't seem excited. She says it's just a way her rival is looking to humiliate her in public. Said something about putting Saiyan table manners on display?"

Bulma's mother shrugged and twirled again in her floaty dress. "It's still a party!"

.III

Three of them. Bulma stared at all three pregnancy tests. All negative. Still. One hand moved to her abdomen and she sighed.

All of these tests worked on human physiology. But if what she suspected were true? She was carrying a hybrid of both the Saiyan and Human races.

Possibly with a tail.

Tears filled her blue eyes and she quickly wiped them away. So much for birth control pills. Bulma shook her head helplessly. Again, something formulated to keep a human from pregnancy. But they were not 100% effective. And did they really work against Saiyan sperm? Or did pills work on her and not him? Thinking about it was enough to make her head hurt.

Was this an accident? Or fate?

Cravings. Bulma made a face. Salt and fish. Together if she could. But anything with salt or fish. And suddenly? She couldn't stand the thought, smell or taste of coffee. Gone.

Then there was the unmistakable missed period.

Yep. The three negative tests be damned. She'd gotten herself knocked up.

Bulma felt the tears trail down her cheek. Seven months. Seven months of being 'mated' to her Saiyan Prince. The warrior was going to be so pleased.

Grabbing a tissue, Bulma wiped her face clean. A baby. Was a baby so bad? A beautiful little girl, no matter what Vegeta said about wanting a son. Still, a boy would be good too. The tail still worried her a bit though. Yet ...

The only real problem right now?

Vegeta.

She was losing him. She could feel it, down deep inside. He trained for hours, some times days on end. He'd come back, pick a fight, and then they'd have mind-blowing sex and then he'd sneak out of their bed to go back to training. Seven months like that.

She was something to do. Bulma frowned sharply. "Stupid man probably has a list. Train. Take shower. Eat. Have sex. I'm last on the list!"

.III

Vegeta scowled sharply. He was training at the room maximum of 450x Earth gravity. He'd gained tremendously over the past months. Power, speed, strength and agility. All great strides.

But not a Super Saiyan.

The warrior reached for a towel to wipe the sweat out of his eyes. The cloth was already saturated. Vegeta looked at the clock and cursed under his breath. He'd been in here all night and all day. Soon his idiotic mate would be sending him a message to come out and take a break.

His mate.

Vegeta paused as he allowed his mind to linger over the softness of her features. His fingers actually twitched as if wanting to touch her creamy skin. He scowled as his temper rose alarmingly fast and energy built up in his hands.

Without thought he released the energy and half the control console turned into a smoking ruin.

"GREAT!"

Now he'd broken the damned thing. Again. He would have to take a break while the chamber was being repaired.

And it was all Bulma's fault. Damn her! Vegeta felt his stomach tighten as he realized how much he was looking forward to seeing her again. THIS WAS NOT THE WAY A SAIYAN WAS SUPPOSED TO BEHAVE!

She was a distraction from his training. His need to see her, touch her, have her ...was taking away from his training. If he were to ever achieve Super Saiyan status ...

He was going to have to leave his mate.

.III

Bulma stared at herself in the mirror. She didn't look pregnant. Her chin tilted up and she smiled as she tweaked a line in her form fitting dress. Maybe she'd gained a pound, but it looked good on her.

In the mirror's reflection, the door to the bedroom opened without announcement and she watched her Saiyan mate enter. Still looking at the mirror, she saw the moment he looked up and caught sight of her.

Pain. Longing. Fear?

Confused, Bulma looked away. What had she just seen on his face? Perhaps she had him read all wrong.

"Woman? Why are you dressed up?" Vegeta tossed his sweat soaked towel on the floor near the hamper. He didn't even look at her as he headed in toward the shower.

But Bulma wasn't hurt, not this time. She'd seen his face. He was not indifferent.

"The party that Guma Shinten is throwing for us. Industry event no matter what she says the reason is really. The 'official' reason is ..." Bulma tried to keep her tone light.

Vegeta came to the door of the bathroom and glared at her. "I don't like that person." He interrupted her brusquely.

"Me neither." Bulma admitted. "But it's required."

Giving his mate a long look, Vegeta shook his head. "Why do I have to go?"

"Think of it as this month's date that you promised me." Bulma said quietly. "Just hurry up and eat so you can get dressed."

Vegeta looked confused. "Why should I eat before we go to this party I have no interest in? Won't there be dinner there?"

Bulma smiled weakly. Yes. That was what Guma was counting on, actually. That Vegeta would eat like he had that night at the restaurant. This party was an effort to humiliate her.

"The food is better here." She finally said with a lop-sided smile.

Vegeta grunted and headed back into the bathroom.

.III

Bulma watched the dancing couples with envy, even as she acted indifferent. She explained to anyone who asked, that her husband didn't care for men and women dancing together. He was old fashioned that way.

Since the two genders dancing in close proximity to each other was relatively new in their country, perhaps about fifty years old, most understood.

"He doesn't like the food?" An older matron asked, the wife of a friend of her father's.

Bulma shrugged delicately. "Vegeta was working hard all day, perhaps the heat spoiled his appetite."

The Saiyan next to her pressed his lips together as the woman went on to speak with Dr. Briefs and his smiling wife.

"You made me eat before we came. What you told that woman wasn't true." Vegeta wasn't sure what was going on. He just knew he hated being here, on display. "Can we exit now?"

"Can you touch me, now?" Hissed Bulma. Her Saiyan had been avoiding touching her for the entire evening. A night meant to celebrate their marriage and all anyone could see were the two of them standing very stiffly next to one another.

Vegeta frowned. "I'll touch you later." He promised with a leer.

Bulma gritted her teeth. "So. Is this a Saiyan thing? That you don't touch your mate in public?' She taunted him with deep sarcasm.

"Yes."

The young woman stopped, her anger retreating as she stared at her mate in shock. "Yes?"

Vegeta looked at her and gave a gruff nod. "I'm glad you understand."

Bulma nodded back, not understanding at all. So. He wasn't being rude by not dancing? Not touching? Not paying attention to her from the moment they arrived at the party? "Well." She shifted uncomfortably. "You'll have to touch me when they announce our marriage."

Dark eyes went wide. "WHAT?"

Several heads turned and there were a few frowns. Bulma shushed him quickly. "What? What's the matter? You touch me all the time!" She blushed prettily.

But Vegeta was horrified. "You are announcing our marriage? To anyone? To everyone?"

"That's what this party is all ab...VEGETA?" Bulma gasped as he grabbed her hand and led her out of the room so quickly she was actually feeling a dizzy. Her stomach rolled alarmingly.

.III

Her back was chilled. Bulma came out of slumber groggily and then turned, her hand moving behind her. She was alone in bed. Again.

Bulma frowned and sat up, peering at the clock as she yawned so big that her jaws creaked and protested.

"Three in the morning?" Drat that man.

Snagging her nearby robe, Bulma got up and padded over to the window. Looking out at the gravity chamber, she stopped. It was dark.

Okay, if her Saiyan lover wasn't in bed and wasn't training ...

"What are you doing up? You should be asleep."

Bulma squeaked and spun around. She hadn't even realized that Vegeta was there. Sitting in the dark.

"You never answered my questions about tonight." She stared at him, but his face was cast in shadows and she could not read his expressions.

The Saiyan frowned at her. "I would have, but you got sick."

Bulma blushed and hugged herself as she watched him. "You made me dizzy, pulling me away like that." She was not going to apologize for her earlier nausea. "I thought you'd gotten up to train."

"The control console needs repairing." Vegeta didn't tell her he'd blasted the crap out of it. "I ...woman, I ...need to train some more. A lot more. I am not yet at the level I need to be."

"A Super Saiyan." She guessed bitterly.

Vegeta nodded in the darkness. "Indeed." He needed to tell her that he was leaving. For an extended time. Into space. And away from the distraction of her beauty and warmth. He needed cold and hard to help him achieve his goals.

"You did it, you know." Bulma felt the words form in her mouth and she couldn't stop them, not in the inky darkness of her room.

"What did I do? Make you sick?" Vegeta scowled, stepping away from the words he didn't really want to say to her. "I tried to tell you, Saiyans don't call attention to their mates in public. Who knows what enemy may be watching? Are you trying to tell me that by not touching you I made you sick? Nonsense, woman. It's not my fault you are so weak."

She gave a rueful laugh. "This time it is."

"Woman!" The word was a warning. "I did not make you sick!"

"Yes, yes you did."

Vegeta growled and she grinned, even if that smile was more than a bit melancholy.

"I'm pregnant."

Absolute silence. Then a certain Saiyan was on his feet and roaring his approval, his head thrown back in unholy glee as Bulma watched with wide eyes, her hands over her ears. Suddenly, he pounced, grabbing his wife and tossing her in the air as she squealed.

Vegeta caught her and spun her in a circle as she put one hand over her mouth.

"Stop! You're making me sick again!" Bulma breathed heavily and winced as she fought to keep her gorge down.

Vegea whooped and put her back on her feet. "I didn't know giving me a son would make you sick!" He couldn't stop grinning.

Bulma shook her head and gave a weak smile as her stomach decided to keep from coming back up after all. "It's not that uncommon for woman to be nauseated right now."

Vegeta nodded, though he didn't really understand. Then again, this was not an area he was familiar with. "A son." He said the words in a deep, rich voice and with complete satisfaction.

The young woman smiled cheekily. "Or a daughter."

"Bite your tongue, woman." But he was too happy to put any heat in his words. "It's a son, I know it." In his head, Vegeta adjusted his timetable. He wouldn't leave for space until he could see his child. Then he'd make himself train until he became a Super Saiyan.

Suddenly, he paused. "How long before I can actually see the child?"

Bulma laughed and leaned in against him, he opened his arms automatically and gave her a hard squeeze to show her how pleased he was right now. "Gentle!" She protested, though still smiling as he loosened his hold only slightly. "And well, I need to ask you that same question. I don't know about Saiyan babies. How long are they carried?"

Vegeta shrugged. "We walk within a year, I know that much at least. Before that, I supposed the babies have to be carried. Now, when can I see him?"

Choking on her amusement, Bulma leaned back to look him in the face. The moon was shining in the window and she could finally see his pleased expression. Feeling warm and happy with his reactions, she smiled up at him. "When he's born, Vegeta."

The Saiyan's arms went slack as he stepped back, staring at his mate with uncertainty. "Born?"

Puzzled, Bulma nodded. "What's the matter?"

"No, I heard wrong." He whispered hoarsely. "When can the pod be safely opened for us to see our child develop?"

Pod? Bulma watched him, unsure of what he was saying. "What pod?"

Now Vegeta was starting to feel a bit queasy. "Tell me, woman. That you have removed our child to the safety of a birthing pod. And that the location is safe and secure."

Bulma's hands went automatically to her abdomen and Vegeta's heart skipped a few beats. "We don't have birthing pods." She said, hesitantly.

The Saiyan's eyes dropped to her belly, not wanting to ask the next question. "Where is my son?"

The young woman shook her head. "I'm pregnant, Vegeta. He ...or she ...is right here."

Absolute silence again.

Then Vegeta started shaking his head back and forth. "No, no, no, NO!"

Bulma watched him and felt helpless. "Vegeta, that's how babies are born here."

"It's not safe!"

"It's been safe for untold generations!" Bulma retorted.

Vegeta stalked over and turned on the lights in the room, staring at his mate the whole time. He looked at her top to bottom. She watched him, wondering why he looked so green when she was the one fighting nausea.

"Make a pod." He finally said, then grunted with satisfaction. "You made a gravity chamber, make a birthing pod. We will secure it more safely than anything else on this backward planet."

Bulma shook her head emphatically. "No."

"WOMAN!" Another roar, but this one wasn't in triumph, but in frustration.

"NO!" She yelled right back at him. "I am not experimenting with a birthing pod with my unborn child! Who knows what could go wrong?"

Vegeta looked lost, and a bit unnerved. "It's not the Saiyan way." He protested.

Taking pity on him, Bulma reached for his hand. He let her take his palm in her hand and only balked when she tried to get him to touch her belly. "No ..."

"You won't hurt me by touching me." She promised.

Vegeta blanched. "I threw you in the air!"

"I'm fine." Bulma tried to reassure him.

He scowled. "I made you dizzy and sick!" Vegeta looked like he'd just lost a fight. Miserable.

Bulma tried to put them back on better ground. "I suppose we need to get married. And I will say 'yes' to the man this time."

Vegeta nodded, but still looked dazed.

"We'll need marriage AND baby announcements." She pondered the thought, then squealed as Vegeta growled low and mean.

"No! Absolutely not! Tell no one! Your safety and the safety of the baby depend on it!" The Saiyan was now in full Prince mode.

"Our safety?" Bulma gave a weak laugh. "Vegeta, what enemies do you think are watching to see if you have a wife and a child? You are not out in space anymore. This is Earth."

But Vegeta wasn't hearing of it. "What if the Red Ribbon Army we were warned about is watching? What if it's another enemy? No. No! Tell no one of our union or our child! In this we WILL follow Saiyan tradition!"

He sounded so determined that Bulma found herself agreeing. "Can I tell our friends? Goku or Chi Chi or someone?"

"NO!" Vegeta nearly looked panicked, so she backed off. "Alright. It'll be a big surprise when we show up as a couple with a baby, though. She patted her belly gently and Vegeta grabbed her hand, shocked.

"Don't do that! What if you shake the baby up or something!"

Bulma shook her head at him. "I'm fine. The baby is fine."

"But ..."

"I promise." The young woman shook her head sadly. It looked like she was going to be dealing with a severely freaked out Saiyan mate for a while. But for how long a while? "How long ...before pods were used ...did Saiyan women carry a pregnancy?"

Vegeta looked up at her, his dark eyes anxious. It was clear he didn't know.

Bulma sighed and gave a weak smile. "This will be new for both of us."

The Saiyan groaned and looked back down at her belly. "Pods are comfortable they say."

"No." Bulma took a deep breath. "Our child is happy and growing where he is."

"Growing?" Vegeta actually took a step back in horror. "Will that hurt you?"

Bulma watched her mate and shrugged helplessly. It was going to be a long nine months. And she prayed it would only BE nine months.


	13. An Open Book

Bulma studied her image in the full length mirror. She smiled. Not bad, not bad at all. In fact, she was really rather hot even if that was her own opinion.

The cut off jean shorts were new, she turned and stared at her butt in the mirror. Her legs were smooth and lotioned up and looking amazingly long. Turning face forward, Bulma cocked her head to the side. No midriff baring shirt. She was going for hot, not slut. Then again, maybe she should? No.

Bulma patted her pregnant belly and knew that she wasn't showing her pregnancy yet, but was still self-conscious about showing off her midriff. So the shirt covered the waistband of the jean shorts, but was fitted in a very flattering way. Cleavage, but nothing too overt.

The turquoise woman smiled sensually. Hey, while her belly might not be showing anything yet, her breasts definitely seemed to be a bit larger. And more sensitive, tender even.

Her skin was glowing, according to her mother and father. And her curls were sexy and soft.

Perfect.

Time to seduce a husband. Hers specifically.

A frown marred the image in the mirror, and Bulma turned away. She took a seat at her vanity and then frowned at the mirror there too. Turning away again, she looked at her bed.

Their bed.

Bulma sighed.

In the week since she'd told Vegeta about her pregnancy, everything had changed.

The first three days he'd simply disappeared, muttering one word. Training.

He'd come back bruised and exhausted and had slept for nearly eight hours. Normal for human, but not really for a Saiyan. Not her Saiyan anyway, who could function quite well on five hours of sleep or less a night.

Ever since then he had been ignoring her. Bulma blinked rapidly and reached for a tissue. Her emotions were much closer to the surface right now, probably hormonal from the baby. She was NOT going to cry. It would ruin the look she was going for!

Just the day before yesterday she'd started crying watching a greeting card commercial. Vegeta had walked into the room, spotted her tears and turned around without a word and had walked out.

Bulma pursed her lips. She was not going to put up with this! Starting today.

She heard his footsteps outside of their room and she stiffened. "Starting now." She whispered.

.III

Vegeta's nose flared slightly. She was in the room. And he wanted to go to her more strongly than anything else right now. Equally strong was the desire to run.

His hands turned into fists, which he forced to relax again. He was Saiyan. Weaknesses didn't exist, and certainly weren't shown. Even to a mate.

Defying his own feelings, he opened the door with a casualness he didn't feel.

The sight of her was like an energy blast to the chest. His lungs seized up as he took in the sight of his gorgeous mate. His. Beneath the veneer of civility that Saiyan's wore poorly anyway, there was a underlying instinct to grab, claim, own. She was his and she was carrying his child.

Child.

Vegeta could breath again. Focus on the child.

Able to finally look away from her, he glanced around if only to show that he could focus on something other than Bulma.

His eyes stopped on the bed. There was a gaily wrapped box.

"It's for you." Bulma said softly, her voice rubbing sensually over his nerves. His body stirred.

Vegeta frowned. "I don't need anything." He headed for the bathroom, then stopped as she grabbed the box and moved to stand in front of him.

In the local customs, she handed him the box with both hands.

Vegeta shook his head to indicate he didn't want to take the gift.

In the local customs? He'd just insulted her terribly.

Pre-pregnancy Bulma would have yelled at him. Now hormonal Bulma felt tears prick her eyes right before she yelled at him anyway. "Idiot! It's a gift and you have to take it or you will find yourself divorced!"

Vegeta smirked maddeningly. "I though we discussed this. I won't grant you a royal decree."

"Murder works well too." Bulma hissed. "And I'm smart enough to find a way to accomplish it." She shoved the gift into his chest.

Vegeta's hand had come up automatically when she'd pushed the gift to him. He frowned and sighed. He could remove her physically from his path. But ...she was pregnant. Scowling he ripped the paper off the gift. He grunted and tossed the book back on the bed behind him.

"I suppose I should say thank you." Vegeta sneered and stepped around her, closing the bathroom door in her face.

.III

Bulma's eyes burned as she fought not to cry. That hadn't gone well.

She looked at the book on the bed and grabbed it, heading downstairs. She didn't want to face a certain stupid Saiyan again. Ever!

Bulma fled into the kitchen before the first tear fell.

Startled at her sudden appearance, Dr. Briefs looked up from his sandwich making, mustard dripping from his knife to plop on the floor. The kitchen bot clicked and whirred as if chiding him for being sloppy as it zoomed out to clean up the small mess.

Two more tears joined the first. And Dr. Briefs scratched his head as he turned to the intercom. Another small splatter of mustard hit the floor and the bot followed after him with small mechanical whirring sounds.

"Darling? Could you come to the kitchen please?" Dr. Briefs turned around and then looked down at the bot staring up at him. No, at his hand. He shook his head as he realized he was still holding the knife. He flicked some mustard deliberately on the floor for the bot to clean up and the doctor smiled, almost paternally proud.

Bulma's tears turned into a half-way chuckle as she watched her father play with one of his inventions.

"Yes my dear?" Bulma's mother came into the kitchen, looking as lovely as ever. She saw her husband dropping mustard on the floor and then clapped her hands. "You made a new kitchen helper!"

"No, no dear." Dr. Briefs shook his head and pointed at Bulma. "Our daughter is crying."

The pretty blonde looked shocked. "Oh my dear? Did you like the old kitchen bot better? If you miss it that much, we can give it to you."

Bulma choked back a laugh and swiped at her tears. Leave it to her mom.

"Oh, it's the same kitchen bot." Dr. Briefs shook his head. "It just looks so cute cleaning up, like it's scolding me." The kitten on his shoulder purred as if in agreement.

Bulma's mother shook her head. "Oh, my little girl! Are you upset because your father didn't make a new bot for you? I'm sure he will!" The blonde looked over at her husband in an almost stern manner. "You need to go make a new bot for Bulma dear! Maybe one in lavender?"

The pregnant woman's tears gave way to real laughter now.

"White is a much cleaner look than lavender." Dr. Briefs shook his head slightly. "No, wait. She's not crying about the bots." He paused for a long moment and then looked over at his only child. "Or are you?"

Bulma silently shook her head, smiling sadly.

"Did the big book give you a headache?" Her mother reached for the gift that Vegeta had summarily rejected. Reluctantly, Bulma let her mother take it. "Reading always gives me a headache."

"I could make you a lavender kitchen bot. Improve the original design." Dr. Briefs thought about it a moment. "Or pink perhaps?"

"Dad. I don't need a kitchen bot. I don't have a kitchen!" Bulma shrugged lightly.

"I could make one for you." The good doctor offered, not liking to see his little girl so upset.

"You're trying to spoil me." Bulma chuckled.

"You're carrying my grandbaby." Dr. Briefs smiled happily. "Of course I'm trying to spoil you."

Bulma's smile faded as she touched her belly. Baby. Right. "Damn that Vegeta, he's ruining what should be a celebration!"

"What To Expect When You're Expecting?" Bulma's mother looked at the book. "I'll tell you all you need to know darling, you don't need to give yourself a headache reading this."

The young woman sighed slightly. "It was for that stupid Vegeta to read." Since he'd seemed so freaked out by the thought of her carrying his child she'd thought it might help him understand better. Calm him.

"Can he read it?" Bulma's mother looked up looking puzzled.

"Of course he can read." Dr. Briefs shook his head. "I just don't know if he'd want to, of course."

But in her head, time had stopped. Bulma's eyes went really wide. Could Vegeta read? Earth books. Different language and all. Warrior race. What kind of education had he had? But he was a Prince, right? Surely royalty had a better education? But then look at his manners, they weren't suitable for royalty. But those manners were perfect for Saiyans. So ...

Could Vegeta read?

"I just meant can any man read this book?" Bulma's mother continued, unabated. "It's on pregnancy. There's not like a law or a rule that says only women can read this, right?"

"Darling, they don't put gender restrictions on books." Dr. Briefs looked amused.

"Are you sure?" Bulma's mother didn't look convinced.

.III

The next day Vegeta stormed into the room, ready to fight. He took one look at Bulma and stopped cold.

His mate was currently sitting on the bed in the ugliest gown he had ever seen. Her beautiful curls were scraped back harshly to form a knot at the back of her head. This was not a woman looking to seduce him.

She was reading a book and had earphones on, his eyes narrowed. She was also ignoring him completely.

"Where is it?" He asked her coolly. Having to raise his voice because of some horrendous sound coming from her stereo equipment. One voice hit a particularly high note and Vegeta winced. "What is that racket?"

No response.

Sneering, he marched over and unplugged the stereo. He looked up to see his mate watching him.

"Is that how you're looking to kill me? With sound?" He scowled.

Bulma shook her head at him. "I can't hear you." She pointed at the earphones.

"Take them off!" He yelled at her.

Bulma then did the unthinkable. She blinked, smiled, and mouthed 'no' and went back to reading her book.

Fuming, Vegeta marched over and made as if to take the earphones off of her himself.

"Don't touch me or you'll hurt the baby." She said coldly.

The Saiyan actually paused, taken aback. His mind raced and he grabbed the headphones off. "No it won't. Don't make the child into an excuse so that I can't touch you."

"Why not? You are the one using it was an excuse not to touch me." She spat the words back at him angrily.

Vegeta stared at her, not willing to go down that conversational alley-way. Then frowned sharply. "Woman. Where is it? What have you done with the computer part?"

Bulma nodded sagely. "You mean the one I left a note about? The one I took out of the gravity chamber so it won't work?"

He actually growled at her.

"So. You can read." Bulma said it as if surprised he had the capability.

Stung, Vegeta watched her with wide eyes. "Huh?"

"I didn't know you could read." She flipped a page in her own book, as if she could care less that he was anywhere around. "Wasn't sure."

"Of course I can read! I know more languages than you do, woman." Vegeta roared at her. "I read that stupid note you left me about taking the piece from the gravity chamber! Woman! Are you listening? I need to train, where is it?"

"It's in the the third flowerpot on the left, outside the front door." She yawned. "Oh, and plug the stereo back in when you leave please?"

Vegeta stared at her, unsure. Had she just dismissed him? As if she were the Elite and he the Low-Class? He gritted his teeth as his temper rose alarmingly. "What was that horrible sound anyway?"

"Opera. It's for the baby. Helps make her smarter."

"HIM." Vegeta glared at her. "The child is a boy!"

Bulma glanced at him and shrugged. "Whatever."

Vegeta was literally shaking with fury. He looked at the stereo equipment and thought about smashing it to pieces. "It's hideous!"

"It's art." She yawned.

"I think it's illegal on at least three planets!" He snarled.

"But not this one." She smiled lazily.

A sudden thought struck him and he turned to stare at her. "You had headphones on, you weren't even listening!"

Bulma blinked and gave him a smug little smile. "I don't like opera."

It took every ounce of his control to hang on to his temper. Vegeta took a deep breath, then another. Finally he gritted his teeth. "You would subject my son to that awful sound, when you won't even listen to it? What kind of mother are you?"

"The kind that wants the best for their child. Not like her father who could care less." Bulma yawned. "Won't even read a book to prepare for a child."

A beat passed. Vegeta stared at his mate and nodded slowly. "So that's it. You're angry about the book."

"What was your first clue?" She glared at him. "Now. Go away. Go train. Jerk."

The Saiyan nodded. He should go train. But his feet didn't move. This was a battlefield, and he didn't run away from a fight. Not even from this kind of battle. "You took the piece from the gravity chamber to get my attention. Now you have it. What do you want?"

Bulma stared at him a long moment. What did she want? Him to love her. She frowned. Where had that come from? Instead, she turned away from that particular thought. "Do you want this child?"

"Yes." Vegeta answered simply.

She nodded. "Do you want me?"

The Saiyan scowled. "You are my mate."

"That doesn't answer the question!" She snapped at him.

He snapped right back. "Yes it does!"

"You haven't touched me in a week!" Bulma yelled at him.

"You won't put the child in a proper birthing pod!" He yelled back.

"I AM THE PROPER BIRTHING POD!" She screamed at him, blinked once and then started bawling.

Vegeta stared, appalled. Completely at a loss he picked up a box of tissues and tossed them on the bed next to her. No response. He looked around and grimaced as he plugged the stereo back in. Opera poured loudly from the speakers.

Bulma cried louder.

"STOP CRYING!" Vegeta roared out the order.

Bulma sniffled and glared at him. "Don't order me around!" He could barely hear her over the racket from the opera.

He watched as his mate got off the bed and reached over to shut off the stereo. Blessed silence.

Watery blue eyes stared at wary dark eyes.

Finally she took a shaky breath. "So. No more sex because I won't put the child in a birthing pod that doesn't even exist on this planet? Because you're afraid of hurting the baby?"

"I fear nothing!" Vegeta told her reflexively.

"Prove it." She dared him, standing there with puffy eyes and no make-up while wearing the thickest, ugliest gown she owned.

He didn't move.

She sneered. "You only wanted me long enough to get pregnant. You don't really want me at all."

"I want to bite you."

The ultra-calm way he said it shocked her.

"I want to toss you over my shoulder and take you where no one can ever find you."

Bulma's eyes went wide. This was NOT romantic at all.

"I want you never to wear clothing again and I want to touch you always."

She shook her head and protested. "That's barbaric."

"Don't care." Vegeta reached behind her head and pulled the pins from her hair, letting the curls free. "It's instinct, pure and simple. I just want you."

Something funny turned over in her stomach, and she knew it was too soon to be feeling the baby.

"But what I will do is go train to be a Super Saiyan. I will do it to protect you."

She frowned. "You'd do it anyway. You like to fight."

Vegeta nodded and then pinned her with a long stare. "I would take you into battle, anytime." He said with great weight and determination.

Again. Not romantic. Bulma gave a weak smile. At least he was trying.

"What do you want?" He asked her gruffly.

She didn't even try to lie. "You."

He smiled with supreme satisfaction and grunted his approval.

"Now." She put her hand on his chest, near his heart.

Vegeta stilled and suddenly looked uncertain.

Bulma gave a wry chuckle. "It's okay for us to have sex, as long as it feels comfortable."

"It doesn't." He muttered.

She frowned sharply. "As long as I feel comfortable, idiot. After all, I'm the one with the baby."

Vegeta suddenly looked a bit green.

Bulma shook her head. "Pods weren't always around. Babies have been born the old-fashioned way for over a millenia. Get over it. Just don't be rough."

"Not rough?" Vegeta looked unsure. "But I'm a Saiyan."

Bulma shrugged. "Then let me be on top."

"On top of what?" He looked confused.

She stared at her Saiyan lover for a long moment, then smiled widely. "Oh. This promises to be fun."

.III

Happily exhausted, Bulma pushed a sweaty curl out of her face. "Well now, seems Saiyan's don't do well with not being on top."

Vegeta held his mate and frowned. "Did I hurt you?"

"No." Bulma reassured him, stroking his arm.

"You screamed."

The young woman smiled. "That was a good scream, trust me."

Vegeta wondered if she was insulted that he'd not been able to last with her being on top of him during sex. But he'd not been able to help himself. Halfway through, he'd rolled her over and under him. Instinct.

Bulma smiled lazily, stroking her Saiyan's arm. "I'll have to introduce you to the Kama Sutra."

"What?"

"Another book." She grinned.

He grunted dismissively.

Bulma rolled over to look at him in the face. "You'll like this book. Lots of pictures."

Vegeta shook his head at her. "Woman. I told you I can read. We Saiyans did a lot of planetary travel and had translators in our headpieces. A little time here and I had the language just fine. Don't need the headpiece anymore."

"Travel?" She clucked her tongue. "Conquering would be a more accurate description."

Vegeta didn't argue with the truth. He held his mate and thought about how he should be training. The woman was ruining him. He opened his mouth to tell he he needed to leave, but her hand left his arm and she petted his abdomen.

His body stirred appreciatively.

"Woman?"

Bulma's hand moved lower and she encountered the distinctly male portion of his anatomy. Her hand wrapped around his swollen flesh and Vegeta closed his eyes in appreciation as he hardened even more. His hips thrust slightly upwards involuntarily.

"Woman?" It was both a question and a caress.

"Shush. I'm conquering." She teased him and pushed him onto his back. "I love how you are ready to go again so soon. Hurray for Saiyans. I love how you make me feel." She tried out the word love, but didn't stress it when he showed no reaction to the word at all. Maybe it was just too soon for him.

Vegeta watched his beautifully nude mate rise up over him, settling her knees on either side of his hips as she moved to position herself above him.

"I thought we agreed I don't do well on the bottom." His hands reached for her breasts, loving the feel of the silky skin as her nipples hardened for his touch.

Bulma laughed throatily and leaned into his touch as she slid her body down onto his, impaling herself smoothly. She groaned as he moved his hands to her hips, helping to set the pace.

She looked down into his face and smiled wickedly. "I'm the daughter of a scientist. We never make a conclusion after only one trial."


	14. Moral Turpitude

Vegeta felt twitchy and nervous. He frowned sharply at the sensors within the gravity chamber. He told himself to get over it and to keep training. He'd only been in the chamber about 14 hours. It was too soon to quit!

Fourteen hours at times-450 of Earth's gravity. He should feel awesome about this achievement. He was moving much better in the increased gravity, and without collapsing after only a few moments. But the lack of turning Super Saiyan was pulling on him. Nagging at him.

And thinking of nagging ...

Vegeta grunted. Even when his mate wasn't around, she was nagging at him! She was four months into the pregnancy now and with each day that passed, he felt a little bit more ...uneasy. The need to check on his mate and her condition, well ...there was that word again ...nagged at him. And the Saiyan warrior didn't like it one little bit.

He could not afford to split his concentration. He'd wanted a son, but what if that very child was what was keeping him from achieving Super Saiyan? He needed to focus fully on training!

Vegeta ground his teeth together and grimaced. He knew what he needed to do.

Leave.

But ...his mate was pregnant. Unwanted, a picture formed in his head of his gorgeous mate. Bulma. Beautiful, but complicated. Not straight forward like a Saiyan female would be.

Vegeta sighed and reached for the console. He frowned slightly at the heat pouring out of the control mechanisms. Then again, like him they had been working for the past fourteen hours straight. A bead of sweat trailed down into his left eye, and he ignored the small sting as he wiped his face.

Perhaps a small break? To allow the gravity chamber to rest? Not that he needed one, not in the slightest. But he could use a bite to eat. Vegeta grunted in disgust. He wasn't even fooling himself. He wanted to see if Bulma was alright. And he didn't want to want that!

So he gritted his teeth and just to be perverse, he ignored the desire to see her and turned on the gravity chamber again.

.III

Nineteen hours now. Not that she was counting. Bulma scowled down at the catalog she was flipping through. Stupid Vegeta. Of course she was counting!

Bulma's mother hurried into the room with another magazine, then stopped as she saw her daughter sitting there. "G ...good morning, darling!" She smiled brightly, if a bit on the plastic side as she moved the magazine she was holding behind her back.

Her daughter didn't notice as she tossed the parenting catalog she was reading on a pile. "If Vegeta would only agree to let us announce the pregnancy, then I could be like any normal woman and have a baby shower!"

Dr. Briefs bustled into the room, and he too stopped when he saw his daughter, her back to her parents. He looked at his wife and then down at the brightly colored magazine she was holding. He made waving motions with his hands.

"All of my friends will be so shocked when I just turn up with a baby one day!" Bulma didn't look at her parents as she vented. "They'll be so hurt that I didn't inform anyone! And I know we can afford it all, but it would be really nice to have a baby shower! I love opening gifts." She sounded wistful.

After looking around the room frantically, Bulma's mother finally lifted up a crystal vase and put the magazine under it. Then frowned. You could still see the magazine. She snatched it back and Dr. Briefs had to make a small leap to catch the vase before it crashed to the ground. He missed.

The good doctor winced and closed his eyes, only to not hear a crash.

He opened his eyes to see Vegeta frowning as he put the vase he'd arrived just in time to catch, back on the table. "Oh, Oh! Good, you're done training!"

"I'm not done. I'm no where near done." Vegeta snapped out the words, still irritated with himself for coming inside in the first place. "Not until I reach Super Saiyan and surpass Kakarot!"

"No. No of course not." Bulma faked a yawn. "And I'm sure you're so busy training you can't help pick out all the stuff for the baby!" Her voice was snide and cutting.

Vegeta glared at his mate. "It's a baby. It needs food, drink and a place to sleep."

Bulma shook her head. "Newborn clothing, clothing for inside, outside, pictures and stuff. Nursing pads. Diapers! Oh my goodness the diapers! We're going with cloth, of course. Not that you ever were interested in discussing the matter. And then sleeping pads. They have to be safe and comfortable. Furniture too! Crib, dresser, changing table. Do we go with a pacifier or not? Clippers for the nails. Shampoos and soaps and a bath tub of course. Thermometer and baby books and all sorts of little gadgets! Breast pump. Bottles, oh don't get me started on all the different kinds of bottles!" She threw up her hands in disgust.

Vegeta's left eye twitched. A small sound had him looking over at Bulma's mother who had just hidden something under the desk calendar. But the magazine was too thick and the calendar no longer laid flat. He looked over at Dr. Briefs who was making shooing motions with his hands.

"And books! Music! And socks!" Bulma stopped and sniffed, suddenly teary-eyed. "Socks ... they are so adorable and little."

Vegeta stirred, he did not want to be here if she started weeping. Again. "The baby does not need all of that. And we're not having a party, you can forget it. No one needs to know about our baby."

Bulma's mother turned, her face going red. She snatched the magazine she'd been trying vainly to hide and ran from the room. As she passed Vegeta, however, he reached out and took it from her hands. The blonde was out the door and half-way down the hall before she realized the magazine was no longer in her hands. She hurried back into the room and reached for the magazine, which Vegeta held out of her reach.

"More presents for the baby?" He sneered. "And what's a breast pump?"

Dr. Brief's smiled nervously and tried to take the magazine from the Saiyan. It didn't work any better for him than it had for his pretty wife.

"What's that?" Bulma saw the magazine for the first time. She peered at the cover. "Oh, that's a scientific publication. Nothing to do with the baby. It's geared toward industries like Capsule Corps."

"Nothing to do with the baby!" Bulma's mother sounded strange as she grabbed hold of the magazine and tried to pull it out of Vegeta's grasp. When it didn't work, she tried with both hands.

The Saiyan warrior didn't even strain. His dark eyes stared with bemusement at the curly-haired blonde who was putting her all into taking the magazine from him. She was leaning back so much that if he let go now, she'd fall.

He looked at Bulma, a question in his eyes.

The turquoise-haired woman shrugged. She didn't know what was going on either.

"That's mine." Dr. Briefs tried to diffuse the situation. "Dry, boring articles." He chuckled nervously. "Nothing of interest, I assure you!"

Bulma's mother lost her balance, trying to tug the magazine free and landed on her rear end. Her hands flew to cover her mouth in distress. "Oh dear!"

"Mom?" Bulma rushed to help her mother up. "Are you alright? Vegeta, what are you thinking you big brute!"

"I did nothing." The Saiyan flipped through the magazine and then stopped on a page. His gaze sharpened.

"You could have really hurt mother." Bulma scolded, helping her mom straighten her clothing.

Dr. Briefs looked at the Saiyan over the shoulders of the two women, where they couldn't see him shaking his head in a clear indication to not say a word.

Vegeta frowned, ignoring the man. He kept reading, then frowned. "What is moral turpitude?"

Bulma gave him a small smile. "Morals. Something you lacked when you decided to invade Earth."

"I know about morals." Vegeta sneered. "And I was ordered here. Frieza."

"Moral turpitude is an outlandishly outdated legal term." Dr. Briefs shook his head, looking extremely nervous. "It's never really brought up in court anymore."

"Oh, you liked conquering and destruction. Admit it." Bulma crossed her arms and stared at her personal Saiyan warrior.

Vegeta shrugged. "I've never denied it." Then he paused. "Why would anyone bring charges of moral turpitude against you?" He sounded genuinely puzzled.

Bulma's mother swayed and Dr. Briefs had to catch her before she fell again.

The turquoise-haired woman stopped and stared at the father of her child. "What?"

Vegeta turned the magazine article so she could see the picture of him entering the Briefs' residence. It was a picture of him in training gear. Meaning, a pair of skin-tight black shorts that outlined his thigh muscles beautifully. He'd been bare-chested and carrying a towel.

Bulma snatched the magazine out of his hands.

"Oh dear, oh dear!" Bulma's mother fanned herself with her hand.

"It's nothing dear, don't even bother with this nonsense!" Dr. Briefs tried to look stern and failed miserably. "The board of Capsule Corps has complete and utter confidence in you and your position. This is nothing more than malicious gossip!"

Bulma's face looked pasty as she continued to read. Vegeta felt himself rising to battle readiness.

"Malicious gossip with a legal precedent behind it." She said slowly as she continued to read.

"An outdated and un-used legal precedent!" Dr. Briefs hurried to reply.

Vegeta actually growled. "Is this an attack?" He demanded, his fists clenching.

"Yes." Dr. Briefs turned to look at his daughter's mate and paused as he considered whom he was addressing. He didn't need Vegeta flying off to attack a magazine editor. Or bring down the entire building. "I mean no. Not a physical one. Not even a legal one, not yet. A stupid article printing vicious rumors."

The Saiyan shook his head. "It says I live here. That's true."

Bulma's mother reached the couch and slid down into a half-faint. "My poor darling!"

But the darling didn't look devastated. Instead, Bulma took a deep breath and tossed the magazine neatly into the waste basket. "I'll bet Guma Shinten is behind this."

Vegeta paused and thought of the woman with a fake figure. He sneered in disgust. Bulma gifted him with a small smile. "What does this mean? Moral turpitude? And how does it attack you?"

Bulma shook her head, her soft curls bouncing slightly. "It's an old-fashioned law no one even uses anymore, but it's still on the books. It deals with conduct that is considered contrary to the social morals and standards."

Looking confused, Vegeta stared at her. "What conduct?"

"You." She gave him a weak smile. "It says that I've called off the wedding and that we're living together outside of marriage and that my conduct is not good enough for my position within father's company. Capsule Corps."

"We are married." He said plainly.

"They don't know that, you won't let us tell anyone." Bulma shrugged. "And we're not married by Earth customs."

Vegeta scowled. "That is not my fault! You would not tell the man 'yes' when he asked!"

The young woman smiled sadly. "I know." She looked up and shrugged. "Wait until those busy bodies realize that I'm pregnant. Then they'll really start gossiping. The article at least doesn't mention me being pregnant."

"But we ARE mated!" Vegeta protested.

Dr. Briefs gave his daughter an approving nod. "We just didn't want our daughter to see this as she doesn't need to get upset while pregnant. But the gossip can't hurt her. Not really."

"Don't worry, this kind of attack is without teeth. They can't use this against me. The board of Capsule Corps are all close friends and relatives. This is nothing more than an annoyance."

"Well it worked." Vegeta snapped. "I'm annoyed!"

Bulma chuckled softly.

"I mean it!" The Saiyan roared.

His mate gave him a soft smile. "Oh? And what are you going to do about it now that you're annoyed? We don't even know for sure where those rumors started." Although she had a good idea where to look, she didn't share that with her Saiyan mate. Oh, wait. She had mentioned Guma Shinten. Oh boy.

Vegeta growled again, looking furious.

Bulma shrugged deliberately. "There's absolutely nothing you can do."

.III

Vegeta stared up at the stars, looking supremely annoyed.

Bulma stood next to him, trying not to laugh. Finally she spoke, breaking the silence. "You didn't even bother to change out of your training clothing. Just threw on a shirt."

He grunted.

"Not that how we were dressed would have made that much of a difference." She admitted. "Still, I wish you'd showered before trying to marry me."

Vegeta scowled and looked away from her.

"Don't get mad at me. I would have said yes this time. But he didn't ask." Bulma couldn't help smiling just a little.

No reaction from her Saiyan.

"You can't blame the man too much. Last time we were here you threatened to kill someone, burn down the church and ...well, that was pretty bad."

Vegeta finally gave her a small glare. "I only threatened him a little. The man was weak!"

Bulma shrugged. "Yes. Don't worry, I don't need a piece of paper here on Earth. I know we are husband and wife in the Saiyan traditions."

The warrior looked cross. "What about Earth traditions? You used to put a lot of stock in them. And what about moral turpitude?"

The young woman shrugged. "Bring it on, I can take that down with the Capsule Corps lawyers any day of the week."

But Vegeta wasn't done. "The man said he would marry us after we took some tests. How long will the tests take?" He knew customs were different on many planets. "And why did he not mention those tests the first time we were here?"

Bulma couldn't bring herself to tell the Prince that his behavior the first time they'd tried to get married had made the tests necessary. "We don't need to do this." She said plainly. "We're good."

"I can pass any test!" Vegeta straightened up. "It's just another challenge, and I don't hide from those. I shall complete this test and you will tell the man 'yes' when he asks and we will be done with it!"

Uh oh. Bulma blinked rapidly as she steadied herself for an argument. "I don't think so."

"Why not?" He turned intense dark eyes on her and she stepped back. "I never lose a challenge!"

"Vegeta. He said to get a marriage license ..." She paused and then took a deep breath. "That after you threatened him and told him you were from another planet ..."

"I am." He said simply.

Bulma gave a weak smile. "Vegeta, he says he won't issue us a marriage license unless you take a psychiatric evaluation."

Vegeta shrugged dismissively. "No problem."

"Big problem!" Bulma countered, losing her smile. "A psychiatric evaluation is to determine if you are well balanced and ...well, sane!"

"Of course I am woman!" Vegeta snarled.

Bulma reached out and took his arm. "I know you are, dear. I know you are."

Vegeta shook his head, looking determined. "I can pass any test they throw at me!"

The turquoise-haired woman nodded sagely. "Okay, let's try some sample questions, shall we? What will you answer when they ask you where you are from?"

"Planet Vegeta."

"A planet named after you?" She asked softly, already knowing the answer.

"No. I was named after the planet, in the royal traditions of my race." He said proudly.

"Your race?" Bulma asked what she knew the psychiatric people would ask.

Vegeta nodded and without a qualm answered truthfully. "The Saiyans. A warrior race of conquerors and fighters! A fine, strong people! The very best! And I am the Prince of all Saiyans!"

Bulma nodded. "And you are the last of your race, and living on Earth? And you are royalty?"

"Woman. You know all this already." He looked down at her.

Bulma smiled up at him and spoke with utter certainty. "There is no way I'm letting you take that test."

Vegeta frowned, unsure. Her response was not what he would have thought. "Why not?"

"Because I don't want the Capsule Corps lawyers trying to get you out of murder charges after you kill the psychiatrists for wanting to lock you up." Bulma patted his hand.

"But everything I said is true." The Saiyan's frown deepened.

"I know, I know." Bulma said soothingly. "There is still no way I will let you take that test."

Vegeta shook his head. "What about moral turpitude?"

Bulma shrugged. "That can't hurt me. Besides, I thought we were keeping news of our marriage a secret. Once I tell the man 'yes' then everyone will know."

That made Vegeta stop and think for a moment.

Bulma nodded and patted his upper arm. "We'll tell the man 'yes' another time." She assured her mate. Not telling him that they'd simply go to another prefecture ...and to another church.

Vegeta nodded slowly. "Perhaps that is best."

"Now lets go home, I'm hungry." Bulma wrinkled her nose. "And after nineteen hours of training, you need a shower."

The Saiyan gave a small sneer of a smile. "Perhaps that is best too."

"Good." Bulma was glad to be going home finally.

"But I still say I could pass any test they threw at me." He stated with supreme confidence.

The turquoise-haired woman nodded, then spoke in a fake nasally voice to mimic a psychiatrist. "Now Mr. Vegeta, how did you get here today? Bus or car?"

"I flew, of course." Vegeta stated in utter seriousness.

"In a plane?" She countered, still in a fake voice.

"With my body." He looked down at Bulma, unsure. "This isn't the right answer?"

His mate smiled up at him. "It's a wonderful body." She said reassuringly. "But no, you still can't take that test."

.III

Vegeta stared up the ceiling, his mate next to him in the bed. He'd been so caught up in what had happened today, that he hadn't mentioned to her yet that he needed to leave. Leave Earth. Leave her.

Soon though. He needed to leave soon. Get away from the distractions keeping him from reaching Super Saiyan. And she was the biggest distraction of them all. But he hated to leave her open to vicious gossip.

He stirred.

"Can't sleep?" Her soft voice tugged at him. Vegeta turned to look at her, but she still had her eyes closed, lying on her side. His eyes traced the line of her cheek and something in him softened at how vulnerable she looked. He couldn't leave her unprotected.

"Tell me what you want me to say on this test. I can lie." He assured her.

Without opening her eyes, Bulma smiled. "Lie sure, but you can't deny who you are."

Vegeta grunted. "I can do what is necessary."

"Can you tell the man you are a human male without a job, living with a woman, and that you let her do all the driving because you don't have a driver's license?"

Vegeta scowled, deeply disturbed by the very idea. "I am a Prince of my people and I live with my rightful mate and she drives because she can't fly like I can."

"Job?" She asked gently.

"Defending Earth against killer androids that will destroy the people of this planet."

Bulma nodded, still not opening her eyes. "And you were warned about the androids by a mysterious youth from the future?"

"That's right." Vegeta stopped and gave a grimace. "Woman, it is the truth."

"I know dear, I know." Bulma yawned. "Now go to sleep."

.III


	15. Almost a Saiyan

Bulma frowned as she stared into the full length mirror. Turning to the side, she put her hand on her pregnant belly. Seven months. And she looked like a whale. She smiled sadly at herself in the reflection. A whale with glowing, perfect skin at least.

Looking down at her reflection, Bulma sighed. The only way she got to see her ankles anymore was in a mirror. Flexing her feet one at a time, she nodded. Some stiffness and swelling, but nothing major thank goodness. But what had Chi Chi told her? They performed a c-section on her to get Gohan at ten months, and he'd still looked small to her.

So. Ten months? Eleven months? How long did Saiyan-Human hybrids need to gestate? Should she pull her doctor aside and explain some things to him? Would the man believe her? Bulma sighed, she couldn't put it off much longer, actually. Not with her being seven months along already.

The cell phone rang, the ring tone of a popular science fiction program, interrupting her thoughts. Bulma smiled even as she answered her phone. When she'd been with Yamcha, the ring tones had been a reflection of that relationship. Sports fan songs. Not anymore.

"Hello?"

"Oh Bulma, dear!" Chi Chi's voice rang cheerfully from the cell phone.

"Your timing is perfect, I was just thinking about you." Bulma laughed.

Chi Chi laughed as well. "Sometimes it just happens like that. So, how are you doing these days?"

The turquoise-haired woman smiled wistfully and eyed her seven-monthed belly in the mirror. "Fat."

Chi Chi's voice stumbled a bit. "Huh?"

Bulma shook her head and shrugged. "I ate too much at dinner last night, never mind me. How are you?"

"I'm sure you're lovely as always, dear." Chi Chi said firmly. "I just wanted to call and thank you for your idea for sending Goku and Piccalo to driving school!"

"Oh?" Bulma's mind raced back to that last conversation and smiled. "Did they get their licenses?"

"Oh yes!" Chi Chi laughed. "Though they still don't like to drive me to town for supplies. Takes away from their training. These men hate being taken from their training!"

Bulma sighed and agreed emphatically. "Don't I just know it." She turned her head to look out the window, but the gravity chamber was too far over to the other side and she couldn't see it. Still, it's where her 'husband' spent nearly all his time these days.

Chi Chi however, completely misunderstood. "Bulma?" There was a long pause. "Did you and Yamcha make up dear? Now he's ignoring you to train. Oh, I wouldn't let it bother you too much."

"No, no!" Bulma answered hastily. Drat Vegeta and his need to keep their relationship a secret! "No, I was just sympathizing with you. Can't be easy married to a Saiyan." Her hand dropped down to her belly once more. "Or being the mother of one."

If Chi Chi thought Bulma's voice sounded odd or worried, she didn't let on. Instead she gave a chuckle and a little sigh. "It's different, I'll tell you that."

Bulma and Chi Chi were friendly, but not exactly close chums. Not secret sharing and slumber party close. But now they had something in common that no one else on Earth could understand. Bulma winced. Except not even Chi Chi knew about it yet! Stupid Vegeta and his secrets!

"What's it like being married to a Saiyan?" Bulma asked, hoping Chi Chi wouldn't ask why she needed to know.

The other woman laughed merrily. "Large grocery bills and long absences." She answered without thought.

Bulma laughed as well, though she ached to ask deeper, more personal questions. "I can only imagine, after seeing your boys eat."

Chi Chi laughed and told an amusing tale of Goku at a local buffet that refused to serve him anymore after running out of supplies every time the Saiyan visited. "And Gohan isn't much better!" The proud mother sniffed.

Gohan. Bulma smiled softly. The only other Saiyan-Human hybrid. The only ...the only one. Her frown disappeared. "Chi Chi? May I ask you something personal?"

Chi Chi stopped and fell silent for a moment. "You sound sad."

Bulma back-pedaled a bit. "Oh no, it's just. Why ...oh, this is ...I mean ...why is Gohan an only child? You weren't hurt during the pregnancy or anything, were you?"

There was a very, very long pause now and Bulma was afraid she'd insulted the other woman. But finally Chi Chi spoke. "Are you pregnant? I know last time we spoke you asked some questions as well. Is Yamcha not living up to his responsibilities?"

Never more than now was Bulma tempted to break Vegeta's rule about secrecy. She really, really wanted to break down, cry it out, and tell Chi Chi everything. Instead, her words fell from between nearly numb lips. "No. But I know how much you adore Gohan, it's in your voice every time you mention him and all ..."

"Oh, oh my." Chi Chi gave a rough chuckle and caught her breath. "I suppose I do run on about my boy, I'm sorry."

"No, no, don't apologize!" The turquoise-haired woman rushed to respond. "I love hearing you talk about your son, but I just wondered and all, why he's an only child." She bit her lip and wondered how bad Chi Chi was going to be hurt when she found out that Bulma really was pregnant.

Chi Chi paused, and Bulma could almost hear the inner mental conversation about what to share and what not to share. Finally, Goku's wife took a deep breath. "It's not for lack of trying." Was all she said.

Bulma blushed all the way to her toes as she heard the longing in the other woman's voice, and all that was left unsaid spoke volumes. Gohan wasn't a baby anymore. So years. Years of trying, and failure. "I am so sorry I asked." She spoke almost too softly to be heard, tears welling up in her blue eyes.

Chi Chi gave a ragged little sound, then collected herself. "No. Maybe I should speak to someone about this. It's so hard since Goku is a Saiyan and all."

Bulma gave a wry smile that the other woman couldn't see, not over the phone.

"When I had Gohan, I was so naive and innocent. I mean, no one knew Goku was a Saiyan at that time, after all." Chi Chi continued. "I let the doctors induce me at ten months, thinking he was late. When I consider that I have no idea how long he should have stayed inside me, I have nightmares about it actually."

Bulma's hand tightened protectively on her pregnant belly, though she didn't speak.

"And, well ..." Chi Chi laughed, a bit over brightly, as if trying to hide her real emotions. "We weren't trying to have Gohan, not yet anyway. I just got pregnant so easily. And now that I want a second child, and it's not so easy this time."

Click.

Bulma's mental ears perked up. Thoughts spun around in her mind. Pills. Birth control pills. She'd been on them when she got pregnant. Her scientific brain spun and she had a lightening bolt of realization.

"Chi Chi?" Bulma said, not sure how to put this. "Perhaps you should recreate your body chemistry to be the same as when you first got pregnant with Gohan."

"Huh?"

Bulma nodded and her voice firmed up as she thought about it. "You weren't trying to get pregnant at the time, right? You took birth control pills?"

"Really Bulma!" Chi Chi shied away from the conversation a bit.

But the turquoise-haired woman would not be deterred, not after hearing the longing in the other woman's voice when she mentioned having a second child. "Perhaps because Goku is a Saiyan, it changes things. Maybe your body needs those birth control pills in order to GET pregnant, not the other way around."

How damned ironic! Bulma sank down into a nearby chair as she took a deep breath. By trying to prevent a pregnancy, she'd assured one! Maybe. Not a lot of test data to go by. But two Saiyan pregnancies while the woman was taking birth control? It was a valid hypothesis at least.

"But ...I ...I ..." Chi Chi was floundering a bit. "I don't know."

"What have you got to lose?" Bulma said gently.

The other woman took a deep breath before speaking. "I'll ...I'll think about it. But I don't think that'll work."

Bulma nodded, knowing she shouldn't press such a private issue. Besides, she would be able to show some proof once she had her own baby and could finally tell Chi Chi and all their friends the truth. Besides, it might all be a coincidence anyway.

A beeping noise on her phone, broke her thoughts. Bulma peered at the display and then scowled. "I'm sorry Chi Chi, I have to go now. One of the security alarms has been tripped."

Chi Chi gave a small gasp. "Do you need help?"

"No, no." Bulma reassured her. "We're fine."

"Well, you do have that man staying on your property." Chi Chi's voice turned cooler. "That stupid prince, you should make him help you out."

Bulma grimaced. That stupid prince was her husband, actually. "I'll look into it." She assured the other woman.

"He should do something to help you out, since you've been letting him camp out on your family land." Chi Chi sounded rather snide, actually.

Bulma gritted her teeth a moment and then agreed to 'make' that awful man help her out.

.III

Vegeta mopped the sweat from his face and bare torso. He frowned. The drying cloth was already so saturated that it was next to useless now. It could absorb no more. Flipping open the lid on the linen cart for a fresh cloth, the Saiyan frowned sharply.

Empty.

Vegeta scowled at poked at the communicator. "Woman! I need fresh drying cloths in here!" He knew full well she liked to call them towels, and refused to use that word just to get a rise out of his mate. "Woman!"

The Saiyan frowned. His mate wasn't responding. Irritated, he looked at the clock display and frowned. Oh yes. It was some sort of out-of-town conference and Dr. Briefs and his wife were not at home. But Bulma should be. She was now showing her pregnancy, and Vegeta had put his foot down that she wasn't to be seen in public until the baby was born.

Vegeta smiled darkly. Bulma hadn't liked THAT at all. Threw a hellacious fit. But he knew that her safety and the safety of his son were more important than anything else.

Safety. Vegeta's stomach rolled and he scowled sharply. Every day his mate grew bigger, rounder. And every day his concern sharpened. He'd even snuck a look at some of her books. The child was going to come out of her body through a small opening. And yet, day by day his child got bigger and bigger. It was enough to make him incredibly uneasy. He knew it was possible. He knew it was natural. It didn't help.

Small, fragile woman. Large, fragile child. And nothing he could do. Unacceptable.

And if he did not achieve Super Saiyan soon, he could lose them all.

Vegeta shook his head and turned toward the door. He needed new drying cloths, he was not going to check up on his mate and find out why she wasn't answering his summons.

Opening the door to the gravity chamber, he frowned at the fresh air. Looking to his side, he spied the space ship that Dr. Briefs had just finished repairing. The man could not resist a challenge. Vegeta took a deep breath.

The machine was ready. He was ready. It was time to leave. If he had any hope of becoming a Super Saiyan, it was not here on Earth. The distractions were too great.

But how could he leave his mate unprotected? How could he not? To save her and everyone else on this miserable planet, he needed to TRAIN! And he could not accomplish that here. HE NEEDED TO LEAVE!

Vegeta sighed and wiped an errant drop of sweat from his brow before it could fall into his eyes. First he needed to find his mate. To get him fresh drying cloths of course. Not to check up on her. He smiled grimly, not even fooling himself.

Entering the house, Vegeta frowned. Something was different. The doctor and his wife were not here, but it went beyond that. He looked over at the security panel. A red light. Vegeta caught his breath and narrowed his eyes.

The panel was showing a problem downstairs, one of the windows near Dr. Briefs' main household lab. Not his work room at Capsule Corps, no this was the room he used when he woke up in the middle of the night with the urge to tinker with something.

Furious. Vegeta allowed his unease and worry about his mate translate into rage. He was going to kill someone tonight. How dare they intrude on the residence housing his mate and unborn son?

Vegeta rounded the corner to the corridor and stopped cold. His blood froze and his blood pressure soared.

Bulma looked up with a bright smile, her slipper clad foot on the buttocks of the intruder as he lay trussed up and helpless on the floor. His mate lifted up her weapon which bore the Capsule Corps logo. "The best in non-lethal stopping power. And it ties them up." She wrinkled her nose adorably.

Vegeta saw red. "WOMAN!"

His mate gave him an unsure look, then blinked. "There's no problem here, my dear. I have it completely under control."

He could see that. And THAT was the problem! "I could have taken care of them!" He roared.

"You weren't here." Bulma shrugged. "And they were no problem at all."

One of the three incapacitated men gave a whimper from around the duct tape over his mouth.

The Saiyan opened his mouth and nothing came out. He was literally too angry to speak. Veins bulged around his eyes and his fists clenched.

"Calm down, Man." She used the term of affection he craved the most from her. "My man." She smiled. "They were too weak for you, anyway. No challenge."

Vegeta gritted his teeth. The three men were obviously no challenge to him at all. But it was his duty to protect her! It wasn't like she was an ordinary Saiyan female who could take care of herself!

Suddenly, he blinked.

Ice replaced fire in his blood as the Saiyan Prince numbly watch his wife expertly deal with the police when they arrived. He continued to watch as the officials laugh as they carted off the trussed up intruders. He even managed to answer their stupid questions.

She handled it all. It wasn't like a Saiyan female, no. His mate hadn't killed them. But she had dealt with them efficiently and effectively.

Bulma could handle Earth problems. Normal problems. Even normal men breaking into her house to steal her father's secrets when they thought he was out of town.

It was up to Vegeta to handle the other problems. The ones not of Earth. The ones from Earth that were not 'normal'. Like the Red Ribbon Army and their androids.

If he left, she would not be an easy target. No. When he left. He was so lost in thought, it took him a moment to realize his mate was trying to garner his attention.

"Earth to Planet Vegeta."

The Saiyan's eyes finally looked down into her face. "More questions to answer for your officials?"

"No, no ...they finally left." Bulma yawned, obviously tired. "It was pretty cut and dried anyway, dear."

Vegeta gave her a long look, then smiled ruefully. "You knocked them on their asses."

Bulma's own smile turned smug. "I did, didn't I?"

Vegeta opened his arms to her. But his mate wrinkled her nose and shook her head. "You're all sweaty."

"I ran out of drying cloths." He said simply. "You need to keep a better stock."

Bulma stuck out her tongue at him. "It was stocked for three days. You've been in there for four."

"Stock it for four." He growled.

"Come out every third." She growled right back at him.

Vegeta eyed her in appreciation. He had been right to accept her offer of mating. She ...his heart skipped a beat and he stopped his thoughts there.

"I have to train." He managed to say out loud. He couldn't use the word 'leave' yet.

"I know dear, I know." She sighed an gave another jaw-cracking yawn.

Vegeta smiled almost proudly and reached out to touch one of the soft turquoise curls. "You sound exactly like your mother when you say that." He leaned in to kiss his mate.

One moment he was feeling tender and proud. The next a sharp pain had him hissing as he stepped back. She'd struck him! Astonished, Vegeta spit out some blood.

Bulma had open-palm struck him under the chin, forcing his head and neck upwards and he'd bitten his tongue. He stared at her in shock.

"How could you say that?" She screeched. "How could you say I sound like my mother! Take that back!"

Vegeta blinked. What the hell had happened? She hadn't been this upset facing down three strange intruders in her house! "Well, you don't sound like her now." He muttered and spit out some more blood.

"ARGH!" Bulma's face went red and, without warning, she shot him with her gun.

Weighted ropes caught him around the chest, thigh, and lower legs and wrapped numerous times around him. His eyes went wide though he easily kept his balance. "I thought you liked your mother."

"I love my mother!" Bulma stamped one foot. "But I don't want to be her! Never tell me I sound like my mother! I am not some sweet little thing that will stay at home and cook for anyone that comes over!"

The Saiyan wasn't sure what was going on, but now his temper was flaring again. "Well, you don't sound like her now. You're acting the shrew!"

Bang. She shot him again. More weighted ropes.

Vegeta gave her a droll look and flexed his muscles with only a hint of power. The ropes shredded.

Bulma screamed and threw the gun at his head, but it merely bounced off his chest harmlessly.

"You have gone crazy, woman!"

"Oh why don't you go ahead and leave! I know you want to! I can tell!" Bulma screeched at him, her face red and her eyes beginning to swell.

"I will leave and collect my drying cloths and ..."

"No. LEAVE!" Bulma yelled so hard her voice cracked, a whimper escaped her and she took a deep breath to steady her nerves. "Do you think I'm so stupid that I don't know you've been provisioning the space craft?"

Vegeta froze in place.

"Did you think I wouldn't realize that the provisions you've been storing are only enough for one? And that there is no room in that pod for me or a baby?" She hiccuped and glared at him. "Deny you're leaving."

The Saiyan Prince sneered, it was his fall back expression for whenever he felt unsure. "Of course I'm leaving."

"If I said I love you, would you change your mind?" Bulma said, her voice rough as she wiped some tears from her face.

"You love ice cream. You love kittens. You love your show on Thursday nights, the one with the doctors. You love your car." He paused and sneered again.

"I love you."

The sneer vanished and his dark eyes stared at her, but she could not read his expression. Nervously she chewed her bottom lip.

"Beyond all those things you mentioned. Above all of that. I love you." There. There it was. Out there. In his face.

The Saiyan blinked slowly. "All the more reason I need to leave."

"Don't play stupid. You know the meaning of the word love. You know there's a difference between loving a food and loving a person. It's a nuance thing." Bulma glared at him. "You know what I mean when I say that I love you."

Her voice dared him to deny it. He couldn't. "I know."

"You're still leaving." She didn't have to guess. She just knew.

"Yes."

"To train. Become a Super Saiyan."

"Yes." His voice was cold. Sure. Unyielding. "For us."

Bulma shook her head. "For you. If you were someone else, you'd take your mate and your child and relocate, out of danger. But no. Not you. Goku lives here. This is his home. He wants to protect Earth because he loves it. Not you. Not. You."

Vegeta stared at her, unable to refute her words.

"If you were leaving 'for us' you would evacuate us. You wouldn't fight for a world you could care less about. A people you look down on for being weak." She gave him a long look. "You're leaving to train because you WANT this fight."

"Woman."

"Don't 'woman' me!" She snapped at him. "Just go ahead and go."

"Would you leave Earth?" He asked her coolly.

"No." She reached behind her head and rubbed her stiff neck, no longer meeting his eyes. "But asking me to leave Earth never crossed your mind."

The Saiyan nodded. She was right, it hadn't even been a consideration. "I need to train to beat the Red Ribbon Army and the androids. You know this."

"You can train here." Her nerves shot, Bulma looked down at her pregnant belly and sighed. "And you don't need to fight the androids. You want to fight them. As a Super Saiyan." More than he wanted her. Bulma didn't say the last part out loud.

Vegeta didn't answer and finally she looked up at him with a watery smile and nodded. She turned away to leave. "Lock up before you leave the atmosphere, please." Her words were dismissive. And they rang false.

"Woman."

The one word had her stopping, though she didn't look back at him.

Vegeta eyed the length of her back. "I will return."

Not the words she wanted to hear exactly, but not bad. Bulma nodded, but didn't look back at him. "For me and the baby? Or the fight?"

Suddenly he was at her back, though she'd not heard him move. The Saiyan spun her around and leaned into her space. She backed up until she was up against the wall of the corridor. Vegeta pressed closer, their breaths mingling.

"I will return." His gaze bored into hers and demanded a response. Finally she nodded with something less than gracefulness. Still, she had nodded. He grunted in approval.

"For the fight. For my son. For you."

"In that order?" She whispered.

"Shut up." He growled and kissed her within an inch of her life.

Bulma hadn't wanted to respond. Not with him leaving. But his embrace was so warm and she needed him so much. With a small gasp, she opened her mouth to his insistent tongue. Fresh tears fell down her cheeks as she kissed him with all the longing of her heart and soul.

It took a long while before either came up for breath. Vegeta stared into the melting pools of her blue eyes. "I can't stay."

"I won't beg you." She said, the firmness in her tone belied by the tears still on her face.

He growled long and low then wiped one of the tears away with his thumb, bringing the digit to his mouth to taste her essence. "I promise to return."

She stared at him, wanting to beg him to stay but not able to bring her pride to bend that far. "You might not be welcome." She hissed.

He grinned full out and stole another long kiss. Finally he pulled back. "Liar." His smile faded and he took a deep breath. "Bulma. Woman. My mate. I feel ..."

The words he was trying to say just about stopped her heart. Would he, could he, finally tell her how he felt about her?

Suddenly she gasped and Vegeta leaped back, his eyes wide. Her hands flew to her belly as her Saiyan warrior stared, completely undone. "Was that the child?"

Bulma nodded, upset that he'd not finished what he'd been about to say. "She kicked you."

"He. Woman, get it right. That's my son." Vegeta swallowed hard. He'd felt the baby kick before, but not like that.

The turquoise-haired woman shrugged at him. "The ultrasound was inconclusive. She's turned wrong for the pictures. Gender still unknown". She lied to his face. For some reason she couldn't bring herself to admit that she was indeed having a son. If the stupid man wouldn't come to the appointments with her, he didn't deserve to know.

Vegeta growled.

"You ...you were about to say something." Bulma stepped closer to him, looking up into his face.

The Saiyan Prince nodded. He looked at his mate and knew deep in his gut, if he didn't leave now then it wasn't going to happen. He'd witnessed for himself the fact that she could take care of herself and ... and he had no more excuses.

Vegeta looked down into the face of his woman. "I leave tonight."

Stricken mute, Bulma swallowed hard and nodded, looking away in order to keep from bursting into pride shattering tears.

.III

Vegeta finished the last minute calculations and had entered them into the space pod. All was in readiness. He did a few final checks on the monitors and then frowned as he spied something in one of them.

No, not something. Someone.

Bulma watched the space ship from behind the oak tree, unable to stop herself.

"Come to say goodbye, after all?"

Bulma stiffened and turned around to face her husband who must have somehow sneaked out of the pod to fly up and land behind her.

"No. I wouldn't be hiding behind the damned tree if I meant to say anything else to you." She replied smartly.

Vegeta scowled and shook his head. "A proper mate would send me off correctly."

"But I'm not a proper mate, am I?" She poked him in the chest with one finger, which he caught in his hand. "I'm not Saiyan. I'm not tough enough to go with you."

The warrior shook his head at her. "Don't be silly, woman. And you know I go to train. We've been over this. You're the one who brought up the fact of me leaving."

Bulma nodded grimly. She had indeed. "But you were already preparing to go. I merely mentioned your actions."

The Saiyan Prince sighed and shrugged. "It is pointless to argue."

His mate nodded, but wasn't going to just let it go. "I didn't come out here to argue. I just wanted to watch you leave. You're the one who came over here."

Vegeta nodded. "I will return."

"When?"

He shrugged. "When it is time to fight."

Bulma's eyes widened. "That's over a year away!"

Vegeta simply nodded. "I will be back in time for the fight."

"But ..." Bulma stiffened her spine and stepped back. She recalled with perfect clarity Chi Chi's words about being married to a Saiyan. Large grocery bills and long absences. Bulma knew she had to come to terms that her husband wasn't human. He was a Saiyan warrior and a prince.

"Fine." She swallowed the bitter truth. He didn't love her enough to stay. If he loved her at all. "Don't expect to find me or the baby waiting for you."

The Prince smiled darkly. "I call you a liar, woman."

"It's a boy."

Vegeta stilled and his eyes dropped to her belly. "You are sure?"

"Yes."

Something in her voice had his eyes narrowing. "How long have you known?"

"Months."

His dark eyes flew up to meet her gaze and he nodded. "You fight dirty. I like that in a mate. It's almost Saiyan of you."

"You're still leaving." It was a statement, not a question.

Vegeta grabbed her and pulled her as close as her pregnancy belly would permit. He kissed her deeply, leaving her panting as he pulled back away. "Mate. I would take you into battle with me, anytime. Anywhere."

Then he was gone. Poof. Flying away toward his space pod.

Bulma turned to stare as the engines turned on and rough mechanical sounds filled the quiet evening. The space pod rose slowly, then picked up speed. Up and up it rose, going faster and faster.

Until it was gone.

Bulma stared at where the pod had disappeared and finally took a deep, steadying breath.

"Take me into battle?" She sighed. "I want you to tell me you love me, not that you admire that I can fight dirty. Stupid, dratted Saiyan."


	16. Gestation Period

"I hate you. I hate you all." The young woman tried to still her panic behind a mask of anger. No one was fooled, unfortunately not even herself.

The doctor sighed and looked over at his long-time friend. Dr. Briefs shrugged and tried to comfort his only child.

"He just feels it isn't safe to ..."

Bulma turned away from him even as she vainly tried to brush off her mother as she hovered and patted, cooing at her daughter that everything would be fine. Finally, her mother handed her a tissue and Bulma balled it up in her hand.

"I'm a horse." The turquoise-haired woman bemoaned. "I haven't seen my ankles in months and my back hurts constantly. When the baby rolls too high, it's even hard to breathe! I can't even eat what I want because of the indigestion!"

The doctor shook his head and shrugged helplessly. "I just don't know what is safe and what isn't. I wish I'd had a chance to meet the father before this trip you say he's on."

Bulma scowled, sending her poor mother into a frenzy of petting and cooing. "No you don't, trust me. Dratted male, running off into space and leaving me here to face this alone." Her mother nodded and pulled out another tissue to hand to her daughter.

The doctor took off his glasses and shook his head. "Look, I didn't want to believe that you had met and married an alien basically. But I know you. I've known you all your life. I know your father. And I know that you have technologies being developed in Capsule Corp. that just has to be seen to be believed."

"Induce me." Bulma nearly wept. "It's been eleven months. I've been pregnant for eleven damn months!"

But the doctor refused. "You said the only other hybrid child looked small when delivered by C-Section at ten months. I just don't think it's wise to induce. For one thing, the drugs used to induce are not harmful to you, but what about the child? We don't know about how these drugs will affect him."

Bulma sucked in a sobbing breath and shook her head. No, she did not want to put the baby at risk, but neither did she want to carry for another month! A whimper escaped her, even as her mother handed her another tissue. Bulma was surprised the box had any more tissues left in it, actually.

"I know I've asked before, but is there ANY chance of getting a blood sample at least from either the father or another of his species? Even the other hybrid child?" The doctor looked almost pleadingly at her.

Bulma bit her lip. She'd denied him his request outright for the past few months, ever since taking him into the family confidence to monitor her pregnancy. Vegeta had forbid her to tell anyone of her condition. Not Chi Chi, not Gohan and certainly not Goku.

And she'd stuck with that. But Vegeta had been gone for four months now, and she was absolutely miserable. She was waddling down hallways now, not walking ...waddling like an overstuffed duckling ...or an olive. A weak smile ghosted her lips for second, then disappeared.

Sensing her resolve wavering, her father leaned forward. "Perhaps ..." Dr. Briefs began, but was cut off by the look on his only child's face.

Bulm steeled her expression and shook her head. "No, no. So I'm a horse. They have an 11.3 month gestation period. Not much farther."

The doctor sighed. "What if you're not a horse, but an elephant? That's 22 months."

Bulma paled, went gray and had to clutch at her mother's hand for a moment. Then she shook her head. "Goh ...I mean the other child was perfectly formed and healthy at 10 months, just small. I'm sure we're close to the end." She prayed.

Disappointed, the doctor nodded. "That's your call. But you're running out of space in there." He pointed at her belly. "And I'd feel more comfortable with more information. Any bit of information really."

"He could have a tail." Bulma's mother said in a weak but still hopeful voice. "Not that we mind. I'm having trouble cutting holes in the cloth diapers and keeping them so they still work. But it'll work out I'm sure."

Startled, the doctor stared.

Bulma groaned. "Mother, the ultrasound didn't show a tail."

"I don't trust machines." The woman whispered, ignoring the startled look from both her husband and daughter, both of whom built machines like that.

"Tail?" The doctor whispered. "How come you didn't tell me?"

Dr. Briefs' frown deepened. "There was no tail on the the ultrasound." But he didn't sound sure.

The doctor looked like he might faint. "Tail as in rigid, or tail as in prehensile?"

"Monkey." Dr. Briefs said, then shot his daughter an apologetic look and blushed slightly. "Think monkey tail."

"But the ultrasound?" Bulma asked weakly, not liking the sudden fear on her doctor's face. Not liking that his fear was ratcheting up her own.

"The images weren't examined for a tail!" The doctor sighed, shaking his head. "Still monkey tails are made up of both bone and cartilage, so it should show up. SHOULD. Aliens, why did you have to marry an alien?"

"Only should show up?" Bulma's voice sounded distressingly weak. Her mother nudged her and handed her another tissue.

o.O.o.O.o.O

Four months. It wasn't long. Vegeta scowled. It had taken over two months just to arrive at the barren planet. So he'd only really been training on the barely life sustaining rock for a month. What was a month?

Yet dissatisfaction ate at him. The Saiyan Prince sighed and powered up. Energy rolled off of him in waves, energy he wasn't currently directing. Enough energy to take over a planet by himself. Maybe.

Vegeta sneered and clenched his fist. Power rolled over his body, turning back on itself and building up even higher. The rubble around him stirred and rose with the power he was creating. The warrior's feet sunk into the rocky surface of the small planet for a moment before he willed himself to defy the heavy gravity, hanging in the thin atmosphere as he frowned.

There was no distraction here. No mate. No sex. Limited resources. And a hostile environment. Vegeta eyed the thick storm heading his way over the barren rock-scape. It looked vicious and he was looking forward to experiencing the storm first hand.

Yes. Yes, this is where he'd learn to master becoming a Super Saiyan.

The storm was wild, but reflected the deep feelings roiling within himself. Vegeta welcomed the storm, letting it roll over him with it's power and intensity. In a strange way, he could identify with the storm. Often in his life he'd felt like lashing out at everything and nothing, especially since the destruction of Planet Vegeta.

The hot-blood Saiyan roared out his approval to the universe ...and it rejected him. Dark eyes narrowed as he saw the shapes coming toward him. Meteorite shower. Nothing too bad, yet, but it looked like it could get worse.

The worrisome part was that it could destroy his supplies ...and his ship. His only way off this small and very desolate planet. Vegeta sneered. Like he was going to let a little thing like a meteorite shower bother him.

The sneer turned into an evil grin as the Royal Prince used his energies to protect himself and his supplies, as well as his only vehicle to return home with. Meteor after meteor was destroyed.

Vegeta yelled out a challenge to the storm, that could not be heard over the multitude of lightning strikes and energy blasts.

One such blast came so close to his space ship, it blackened the protective outer skin of the craft. Vegeta frowned and shot forward to deflect the energy blast. He was here to get stronger, not to be stranded out here. He needed to be more careful.

No. He had a home to return to when this was done.

In the midst of holding back the storm, the fact that he'd just called Earth home ...escaped his notice.

o.O.o.O.o.O

Bulma winced and rubbed her back as she tried to stretch, but couldn't really find any relief. She couldn't even take a deep breath!

Her blonde mother waved her hands in concern and pressed another tissue in her daughter's hand.

The turquoise-haired woman looked down at the tissues in her hand and then over at her mother's nearly empty box. She sighed and walked over to the trashcan to drop nearly the entire box of tissues inside. Why did her mother go overboard with stuff like this? On the way over though, she got distracted when she glanced over at her father, who was in a deep discussion with her doctor. Bulma sighed, then winced as another shooting pain went down the back of her thigh and leg. Sciatica sucked.

The pain was sharp and shooting, and ...Bulma opened her eyes to find everyone staring at her. She shook her head negatively and pointed at the ground. "Water didn't break. It's just my sciatic nerve. Again."

The doctor frowned. "Water doesn't always break like in the movies, in fact at least 75% of the time the water doesn't break until after the onset of labor."

Bulma's mother shook her head. "Mine broke at the hospital." She smiled. "I'm sure everything is fine. Her shamic pain is getting worse though."

"Sciatic." Bulma sighed and shook her head.

The doctor looked over at the blonde and looked intrigued. "Worse?"

The sweet blonde woman nodded. "Every few minutes or so, lasts for at least half a minute."

"How often?" The doctor and her father asked at the same time.

Bulma shook her head. "I've been having sciatic pain for two months now, nearly constantly." She said defensively. "I haven't been counting! It's not labor, it's just back pain!"

Dr. Briefs' wife smiled. "Since we've been here, I've given her a tissue every time she winced in pain."

Everyone looked to Bulma's hands, where she carried an untold number of tissues, all eyes turned to her mother who was holding a near empty box. The blonde smiled. "That was the right thing to do, right? I just didn't want her not to have a tissue if the pain made her cry."

Bulma suddenly winced at the sudden pain once more. The doctor looked at his watch and then sighed. "You're not a horse after all. You are in labor now, not in the 10 more days you were predicting."

The turquoise-haired woman tried to smile, but found she couldn't. Another whimper escaped her as she suddenly felt more afraid than ever. Not even when facing down monsters on Planet Namek had she felt this panicked.

"I'm not ready!" She wailed.

o.O.o.O.o.O

Hours later

Vegeta was soaked through with a rain he could swear was slightly acidic, and his own sweat. But at least the meteor shower seemed to be slowing, probably ending.

Suddenly, he sensed something ...danger? Looking up, his dark eyes widened. No small meteor was now heading toward him, but the mother of all meteors! Huge! And his ship was in it's destructive path.

Normally this type of meteor he could handle without a problem. But ...but ...he'd been training nearly non-stop in x450 Earth's gravity. He'd been destroying smaller meteors for over several hours now. Vegeta had nearly nothing left in the tank.

Actual fear reared it's ugly head.

If that ship was destroyed, there would be no way home.

This time the word registered. Home? Shock stalled out his mind and he lost precious seconds as the huge meteor hurtled toward him.

Quickly he shot off a huge amount of his reserve energy, and it exploded too soon! The resulting energy back-lash sent the Saiyan Prince tumbling out of control to the ground below.

He struck the planet surface as hard as any meteor.

Vegeat crawled to his hands and knees, looking out as the huge meteor rushed downward to destroy his only hope of ever getting off this planet. His only way back to Earth. To show Kakarot he could best him, to see his child, and to see his mate.

Blood dripped from a hundred small cuts and bruises. Death swam before his vision. A lonely and pitiful death. Away from everything he cared about.

And then, all of a sudden... he no longer cared.

Vegeta screamed in defiance of fate itself and ...let everything go. He didn't care if he beat Kakarot. He didn't care if he lived or died. He didn't care if he never breathed again. And he didn't care if his mate had to mourn his passing.

He. Didn't. Care.

Freed from all worry, freed from all care, and freed of any motivation ...his body started to change. Blood poured through suddenly unrestricted veins. A heady form a strength overtook him and without thought, without strain and without direction ...

Vegeta went Super Saiyan.

o.O.o.O.o.O

"You're beautiful." Dr. Briefs' tucked one of his daughter's errant curls behind her ear.

"Liar." She laughed, exhausted. Bulma paused and glanced at the nurse, then looked at her father. "The baby?"

Dr. Briefs' smiled. "Your mother can't tear herself from the nursery window." He assured her. "Ten fingers and ten toes."

"Tail?" Bulma whispered.

Her father smiled and shook his head negatively. There had been no tail.

Bulma nodded and smiled.

"He's a handsome and healthy young infant." The nurse smiled and came over to the bed, smiling reassuringly at the new mother. "And he'll be plenty hungry too. They'll be bringing him in here in a few moments."

Startled, Bulma blinked rapidly. "So soon. I just gave birth."

The nurse nodded. "Immediately after birth is natural, but we of course have to make sure he's healthy first and then he can feed."

Dr. Briefs' smiled, "I'll just step out in the hallway."

Bulma felt panic rising up in her. Feed? As if from her? Breastfeed? A Saiyan child, or at least a half-Saiyan?

Dr. Briefs' smile faded slightly. "What's wrong darling?"

Bulma swallowed and shrugged. "You don't think he'll eat as much as his father, do you? I don't know if I ...will ...have enough ..."

Both Dr. Briefs' and his daughter shuddered at the memories they had of Vegeta and Goku both, eating as if their lives depended on it. Gobbling and eating more than any human could. Bulma paled further. "Gohan isn't much better." She whispered.

The nurse shook her head. "Normal fears, but you'll be fine. Nothing wrong in a healthy appetite in an infant."

Bulma's eyes were wide as they brought in her new son. Her hybrid Saiyan son.

o.O.o.O.o.O

Vegeta laughed. Power flowed through him like never before in his entire life. Pain meant nothing, and indeed was absent. He'd never felt better, not once.

The meteor was gone, destroyed. The capsule that was his space ship ...survived.

How ironic. By ceasing to care about anything and everything, he was able to save his future. He could return home. He could see his son and mate. And he could fight Kakarot as a Super Saiyan.

By not trying to force the power, he gained the power he'd always dreamed of having.

Vegeta laughed again, letting his dark joy roll over him and the surrounding landscape as he reveled in the achievement. But only for a moment.

Sobering, the Saiyan Prince let his ultimate satisfaction flow away. Now. Now, the REAL training could begin.

o.O.o.O.o.O

Bulma smiled down at the infant who'd proved to have no trouble latching on at all. She touched the ultra soft skin of the baby's cheek.

"No tail." She whispered. "And eating like a true human." She said with relief.

The baby made no comment, of course. Suckling away with a healthy, if normal, appetite.

"Your father said I could name you once, and he's not here to protest. So ...Hello Trunks. My sweet baby, Trunks." Bulma let the name roll off her tongue and smiled.

Eleven months of being pregnant and hours of labor. All the frustration flowed away as she held her small, infant son.

"Trunks?" The new mother whispered. "Your father is a hard man, and it won't be easy on the two of us. But I want you to know, he wants you. He may never say the words, but he wants you."

Bulma stopped, catching her emotions before they could overflow again.

"I don't know if he can ever learn to love me." She smiled wanly. "But you will have a relationship with him, I promise. In fact ...that dratted man said he'd take me to battle with him and I'm going to take him up on it."

The baby stopped suckling a moment, hiccuped and then went backto feeding.

Bulma nodded to herself. "Yes. I don't know when your father will be back, but I definitely know he'll be back to fight the androids. And you and I will be there. After all, I want to see them too. And your father? He did invite me."


	17. Homecoming

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just an important note. This is a fanfiction and is not cannon, and therefore the time-lines are different. Changes have been made. Do not assume all changes are deliberate, some are mistakes. But for the purposes of this fiction, they work for me. Please bear with me.

Ten Months Later:

Bulma nervously bounced baby Trunks on her hip as she hid her discomfort beneath a smile and a veneer of a take-it-or-leave-it attitude.

"It's not my kid." Yamcha yawned, looking away as the other Z fighters watched in disbelief. "But if you think that's a shock, wait until she tells you who the father really is."

Bulma hated it for him as her former boyfriend turned his back on their group of friends and comrades, unable to look at them as he made his little announcement.

It was obvious that Gohan and Krillin didn't know what to say, completely stunned by Yamcha's announcement. Only Goku didn't seemed surprised as he cooed at the baby. "I'll bet it's Vegeta, right Trunks?"

Bulma blinked, unsure. How had her friend known the baby's name before she'd even told him?

"But ...but ...how did you know that? I wanted to keep it a secret." The turquoise-haired woman couldn't believe it.

"I'm, I'm ...a good guesser!" Goku back-pedaled quickly and scratched his head and flashed a winning smile. "Maybe I'm psychic!"

The young mother let it go, sure either one of her parents must have let something slip. And with this big a secret, she couldn't blame them. Much. Still, it did help that her friend seemed to immediately accept her relationship with the Saiyan Prince. That helped. A lot.

Bulma looked around. Yamcha was pretending not to care, but she could see the tension in his body and she sorrowed at it. Piccolo looked implacable, as if the news was a foregone conclusion. Yet everyone else was falling all over themselves in disbelief.

But as much as she dreaded breaking the news of her relationship to her friends, Bulma's eyes were searching for a certain warrior. And ...he wasn't here.

"Well, since we're on the subject, where is Vegeta?" Piccolo asked straight out, and he was looking at her. As if it were her duty to know, as if they were a real married couple.

Bulma set her jaw and shook her head, as she denied knowing where the Saiyan Prince could be, even as she marveled at how quickly both Goku and Piccolo seemed to come to terms with her new relationship status. It was almost like they already knew. But they'd not been around in years. So how could they? "I know he was training and is coming out here. But with the baby and all, I guess I must have lost track of him." Bulma lied straight out. Like she was going to admit that she couldn't hold on to her Saiyan husband.

She might not be a warrior, but she knew something about pride.

And Vegeta's absence, wasn't helping. Where the hell was he, she wondered?

"He'll show." Goku announced, dead sure as he looked at her. Bulma smiled, had Vegeta let Goku know himself? Did that mean the Prince really cared about her? Eleven months gone and suddenly she wasn't sure where she stood in Vegeta's life anymore.

"He wouldn't miss a fight." The Saiyan continued, and Bulma's smile turned brittle. Of course. It was the fight the Saiyan wouldn't miss ...not his wife and the child he'd yet to see. She dropped her gaze to her adorable son, unable to look at her friends anymore. Not when they all knew that Vegeta cared more about fighting than he did about her.

Well. In all fairness, she knew it too. Which was why she was out here, on the battlefield, and not at home waiting. She knew her Saiyan, and home would not be where he would return first.

Wife. Child. Fight.

"And not in that order." She whispered into baby Trunk's ear, blinking rapidly to keep from tearing up. Her pride could only take so much disappointment.

o.O.o.O.o.O

Vegeta's hands flew over the sensor controls and he scowled. The trajectory of his ship passed right over Dr. Brief's residence. That was a coincidence. A scowl settled on his face. A coincidence? He knew it for a lie even as he tried to convince himself.

He was on his way to a glorious battle and he would not stop to see his mate. But if his course to the fighting just happened to take him on a fly-over of her home, and he could use the ship sensors to make sure ...of what? The Saiyan's scowl deepened.

She wasn't at home. No one was there.

Vegeta grunted, and his expression cleared. Of course. His mate knew the day as well as he did. She'd taken her parents and his child to safety. Stern lips tilted into a smirk. His mate wasn't stupid. Still, he could almost wished he could have gotten a sensor reading of her and his son.

No.

She was right. Get to safety and leave the battle to the warriors. Still ...his fingers hovered over the controls, perhaps a sweep of the area? It wouldn't take long and he would not miss the fight. In fact, it appealed to him to make a grand entrance.

So, where would Bulma take her family? A quick scan of the town and areas would not take long. It's not like he planned to see her or even speak, just to make sure she was somewhere safe. Just to know exactly where she was right now. Talking to her and meeting the child could wait until after the battle.

Vegeta grinned darkly. Oh yes, the battle.

o.O.o.O.o.O

She should go home. Bulma bit her lip gently and bounced baby Trunks a bit to get him to giggle. The sound of her child's laugh was enough to melt her. Every time. And ...she should go home.

The boys had all gone off to fight. A sound to her side made her look and see her sole companion now. "We need to get closer, Yajirobe." Bulma announced firmly.

The fat samurai looked and acted shocked. The silly man. He should know her better than this by now. Just because she should go home, didn't mean that was what would happen.

Besides. It shouldn't be too bad of a fight. The Z Fighters had all had plenty of warning and had been working their cute buns off to get ready! And Goku would never, ever let anything happen to her or her baby.

Goku.

But where was Vegeta?

No. Absolutely she could not go home and not catch a glimpse of her run-away groom. Nerves bounced around inside her, but she couldn't let Yajirobe see that. No. She was going to get a look at the androids, or that's what she told the samurai sputtering beside her.

What she had to see, what she absolutely needed to see ...was him. So. She'd go where she knew he'd be. Besides, he had invited her after all.

o.O.o.O.o.O

Vegeta watched the sensors gleefully. He could sense some small fighting and power usage, but he was not late for the main fight.

Late. The Saiyan's smile dimmed. He'd scanned the city area at least three times and had found no trace of his mate and child. It rankled slightly that he didn't know where she'd gone for safety. And yet it strangely pleased him that she'd hidden herself so well.

It was appropriate.

She was his mate after all, it stood to reason that she would be smart enough to hide herself so thoroughly.

Unfortunately for Prince Vegeta, his smug pride took a blow as his ship sped toward the fighting.

His sensor ...beeped.

A small frown.

He checked the sensor automatically. Yes ...there was the fight, and it's corresponding energy output. There was Goku ...and he was ...down? Sick. Bah. Had the stupid low-caste Saiyan not heeded the mysterious youth's warning about illness? All the better for Vegeta to step in and take the fight all to himself.

The sensor beeped again.

Vegeta's brow furrowed. Some fighting, but nothing that he couldn't handle now that he was a Super Saiyan.

One more beep.

The Saiyan snarled and passed a hand over it and then stopped. There. Off a bit from the main fighting. It wasn't another Z Fighter as they laughingly called themselves. No.

It was her.

Vegeta swore out loud had to fight not to punch his fist through the control panel.

Had he praised her in his mind? Had he thought her brilliant? A deep rumbling growl emanated from him as his left eye twitched with fury.

A blast of energy had the sensors lighting up. Vegeta studied the array before him and his mind raced. Bulma wasn't actually near the fighting at this time. Decisions weighed on him and he moved his hands deliberately away from the controls.

He would not veer, he would not stop. Vegeta gritted his teeth. He would protect his mate in the only way he knew how.

He would ignore her. If the enemy didn't know you had a family, why tell them? Why hand them a weapon to be used against you?

Vegeta sneered. First one fight, and then another. Kill one, put the other in her place. Simple.

o.O.o.O.o.O

She just needed to see for herself. And really, how dangerous could it be? Bulma had already gone off planet and faced down monsters since she was very little. The turquoise-haired woman had every confidence that she and her baby would be fine. Oh, and Yajirobe too.

The only thing worrying her was whether or not she would need more diapers.

Bulma flew the spacecraft around, not over the fight directly ...but just so she could ...could ...get a ...

Goku? No. But whomever that was, they looked like a Super Saiyan. But definitely not Goku. And, it didn't look like the young man who'd mysteriously come to warn them all about the android danger. No, this ...her eyes widened.

Vegeta ...was ... a ...Super ...Saiyan?

He'd done it.

Her husband and the father of her child had done it. He'd turned the corner and had gotten imensely stronger. Without her.

A lump hardened in her throat and Bulma blinked rapidly as her mind raced. Vegeta had achieved his goal. So, what did that mean for her? And for baby Trunks? Would he even stay? On Earth that is, after this battle?

Would he leave her behind? Would he ask her to come? Would he demand she follow him? Would he turn away? Was he even the same person?

Would the dratted man take his precious son and then leave her here on Earth while he went and trained baby Trunks to be a planetary raider? The hell he would! She'd go down there and give him a piece of her mind!

The sound of fighting filtered through her musings and she looked down. "Well, as soon as it is safe". Where were the androids though, there just seemed to be an old funny looking man ...her eyes swept the area. Then her brain saw something she couldn't grasp for a moment. Dr. Gero? Dr. Gero? What was he doing down there? And where were the androids?

o.O.o.O.o.O

Vegeta didn't even blink when the android suddenly looked up, startled by something. He flicked his gaze upward and then froze for a second.

Bulma. In a flying vehicle. Mate. His woman.

With little apparent thought, the android sent an attack against the machine, knocking it out of the sky.

All the Z Fighters watched in stunned silence.

Vegeta ...didn't move. His heart sped up for second, until he saw the young man from the future start to move. Yes. Yes, that would work. Now to find the dratted android! The pitiful machine-person was using the crash as a distraction!

Without looking, Vegeta could sense that his mate and her child were safe. He would not allow this to break his concentration.

"What are you thinking?"

Vegeta's dark gaze cut to the side. Oh yes, the young future Super Saiyan. And if his thoughts were correct. His son. The youth's fury washed over him as the young man faced him nose to nose.

"Why didn't you save them, Vegeta?" Shrieked the youth.

Vegeta didn't answer. He was going to have to teach his son better than this. Oh, but in the boy's past he didn't have a father ...because Vegeta himself had died. Still, no excuse for a stupid question.

"Who?" The Saiyan warrior deliberately goaded. "The stupid woman and her silly child?" He slid the verbal knife deep. The young man had a lot to learn. And how dare he confront his father, and his Prince like this?

Vegeta looked around the area, considering the continuing battle. Letting all other worries fade away. Let his future son look after his current mate and child. Pft.

Bulma watched, her heart in her throat as she tried to calm down. She'd nearly died! She and baby Trunks! Blinking rapidly, she watched the mysterious youth confront the Saiyan Prince. The same Saiyan who wouldn't even look at her. And one that had not lifted a finger to save either her nor the child he claimed he wanted. A sob nearly escaped her before she gritted her teeth, determined not to let her misery show.

She'd never give stupid Prince Vegeta the satisfaction.

o.O.o.O.o.O

Following the events of the fight and prior to the Cell Saga:

Later:

Bulma turned on the musical mobile, and watched with deep satisfaction as her son lost the battle with sleep. Nothing beat watching a baby's eyes start to close as they struggled to keep them open. At least the days of 2 a.m. feeding were over.

"Good night precious, mommy's here." She cooed.

A derisive snort answered her.

Bulma spun around, her heart racing. Vegeta leaned negligently against the open door to the nursery. He looked beat up, torn up, tired, angry, and ... amazing. Blue eyes narrowed as the young mother fought to steel her heart against the crazy bastard who'd have let her die today.

"You coddle him." Vegeta sneered at her.

Bulma crossed her arms. "He's not even a year old yet."

"Can he walk yet?" The Saiyan asked, looking past her to the crib.

"No." Snapped Bulma, then sighed. "But he's pulling himself up to standing and cruising some."

"Cruising?"

The young mother nodded, a smile ghosting her lips. "Walking beside the sofa while holding onto it, using furniture to slide around the room."

A grunt was the only response. Dark eyes ran over her and Bulma went still. She'd changed since he'd left. Her hair was straight again, and shorter. Her clothes not nearly as cute, not when trying to keep up with a healthy baby boy. One whose energy never seemed to run out.

Would he still find her attractive. And why did she care? Bulma snarled and poked a finger at her Saiyan husband. "No word from you! Over a year and nothing!"

Vegeta turned his back on her and headed toward her room. Their room. HER room! "I was training." His words were innocent, his tone was insulting. As if she were too stupid to understand.

Bulma followed him, furious and not sure where to start her tirade! "You would have let us die out there today!" She yelled, then jumped up and shut the door to keep from waking baby Trunks.

Vegeta shook his head and glared at her. "That was YOUR fault you stupid woman!"

"Someone else had to save us!" Bulma screamed back. "Our son, come from the future!" It had been a shock when Piccolo had told her, but she was glad she knew the truth.

The Saiyan nodded, so she knew. Good. Made things less complicated. "You're the one who went out there, woman! You put yourself in danger, not me!"

"Here!" Bulma marched over and handed him a piece of paper.

Without reading it, Vegeta tore it in long strips and then again until it resembled confetti. "Asking for a divorce! DENIED! I will NOT allow it!"

Bulma stepped back, a bit stunned. She coughed and pointed. "That was our child's birth certificate." She said almost meekly. He didn't want a divorce? The turquoise-haired woman mentally decided not to pull out the carefully worded request for dissolution of marriage she'd been working on since getting home after the crash.

"Birth Certificate?" Vegeta pushed aside any embarrassment in favor of wounded pride. "Only on a stupid planet like this one would they come up with a way to tell if a warrior has a family. Don't you know it's dangerous for your enemies to know you have a child?"

"And that's why you didn't rescue us?" Bulma screeched, stomping one foot as she did so.

"YES!"

The young mother stopped, stared and shook her head. She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. A first for Bulma Briefs.

"You would not have NEEDED rescuing if you had not been so plainly STUPID to show up at the fight in the first place!" Vegeta's temper, now riled, had him nearly pacing back and forth in her bedroom. "And Dr. Gero, the android, attacked you without even knowing how important you are! What lengths would he have gone to if he'd realized who you and the silly baby are!"

"He's not silly." Bulma whispered, too stunned to move. "I'm important?"

"NO!" Vegeta growled and stalked up to her, screaming in her face. "If I had reacted at all, it would have changed the whole fight! And I'm not sure I could have protected you both! He would have destroyed you!"

Tears welled up in her wide eyes.

Vegeta saw this and blinked, backing away rapidly. "Stop crying this instance! I demand it!"

"You can't demand something like that." Bulma said gently, even though his words did help keep her tears at bay.

"WHY? WHY? Why in the world, in all the worlds, did you go there today?" Vegeta screamed and then looked over at the closed door.

Bulma shook her head. "My parents had the room soundproofed. I have to keep a baby monitor in here to make sure I hear when Trunks cries out."

"I DON'T CARE!" Vegeta roared.

Bulma shrugged, not frightened too much by her husband's towering temper. He was mad for all the right reasons, for once.

"WELL?" The Saiyan was getting impatient.

The young woman stared at him and smiled slightly. "I missed you."

"NO!" Vegeta growled.

"I love you." She added softly.

The Saiyan sneered and took one of her bedside lamps and threw it against the wall, shattering it into unrecognizable pieces.

Undeterred, Bulma stepped forward and looked right up into Vegeta's face. "And you invited me."

The warrior stared down at her in shock. "Liar! I did not!"

"You said you would take me into battle, any time." She pointed out to him firmly, unwilling to back down.

The Saiyan Prince's eyes went wide with shock. "THAT'S NOT WHAT THAT MEANS!"

Bulma paused, staring into his dark-eyed gaze. "It sounds pretty straightforward to me."

Vegeta's voice fell into a gruff rumbled. "You are an idiot."

Pride pricked, Bulma slapped her hand against his chest armor. He wouldn't have noticed if it hadn't made a sound, but her hand was stinging. "You said it." She shook her hand a bit.

Vegeta grabbed her hand and looked at it, no damage. He grunted and tore off his chest armor until he stood before her naked from the waist up. Grimly, and with deliberate motions, he tossed the armor to the other side of the room. Knocking over the remaining lamp, plunging the two of them into darkness and leaving the bedroom lit only by moonlight streaming in through the window.

Her mouth suddenly dry, Bulma knew immediately that she was in trouble. She wrinkled up her nose. "You need a shower."

"I need to be inside you." He said quite bluntly.

Bulma shook her head. "You've been gone a long time ..." She began.

Vegeta still had her hand in his and he put it over his heart. "I am a warrior, a Saiyan and a Prince and I will not apologize for any of that."

"I just meant ..." Bulma felt her shirt rip. "Vegeta stop that!"

"No." The Saiyan turned and sat on the bed, tugging her with him even as he tugged the remnants of her shirt from her body, leaving her in her lacy bra.

"You stink! You need a shower!" Bulma protested not even bothering to try and cover up.

Vegeta laughed roughly. "When we're done, we'll both need the cleaning stall." It sounded like a vow.

o.O.o.O.o.O

Much, much later ...

Bulma stared at the far wall, her cheek resting on the even rising and falling of her husband's abdomen. She could feel him touching her hair, as if weighing the turquoise-colored tresses. One of her knees rested between his legs.

And she was sticky. All over sticky from hot and sweaty sex. A lot of it. Apparently, he had missed her. Bulma smiled against his skin.

"I'm still angry."

Vegeta's hand stilled and he sighed. "Of course you are, woman. But you have no reason to be upset. You were the one who put yourself in that dangerous place."

"That you left in the first place."

The Saiyan scowled, though his mate could not see his expression. "My training was victorious. I have achieved Super Saiyan." Vegeta frowned. And he had once believed that becoming one would make him supremely powerful. This last fight had proved otherwise.

"You left me. Pregnant. Alone."

Vegeta's hand wrapped around her shoulder and tightened for a second, then eased off. "Enemies come. They don't care if my mate is carrying a child."

Bulma sighed, her breath teasing the skin on his abdomen. "There will always be an enemy."

The Saiyan Prince nodded. "It is one of my race's main sayings."

"You won't smile or touch me in public, you won't acknowledge our relationship, and you won't even save me or baby Trunks when in danger ...because it could put us in danger? That's stupid, Vegeta."

He slapped her shoulder slightly, it didn't even sting.

"Man." Bulma kissed his skin. "Vegeta is my man."

For that she got rolled onto her back, his dark eyes gleaming in the moonlight as she got kissed within an inch of her life. Again? Bulma sighed, wondering at the amazing sexual prowess of a Saiyan. They never seemed to tire!

He nudged her neck and Bulma complied, turning so that he could sink his teeth into the soft, vulnerable skin above her pulse. She wrapped her arms and legs around him and she could feel him rising to the occasion.

o.O.o.O.o.O

Bulma looked at the clock and groaned. Five in the morning and she'd not had a wink of sleep. She unwrapped the towel from around her wet hair and balefully eyed the bed. "Now, we're clean and it's not."

"So fix it." Vegeta yawned, padding around gloriously naked in her bedroom.

But Bulma shook her head. "We can sleep in a guest room or have the bots fix it, but I'm too tired to wait for them. Guest room it is."

Vegeta nodded, and unmindful of his lack of clothing opened the door.

Bulma's mother stood there a second, turned bright red and turned around to head back down the hallway. "Was going to tape a message to your door saying we were back from vacation ... and ask if you wanted breakfast with us."

The turquoise-haired woman shut her eyes and shuddered.

"Breakfast would be good." Vegeta called out, down the stairs.

"Shut the door." Bulma snapped.

"Why?" Vegeta gave her a questioning look. "She is gone now."

Marching over, she shut the door. Or tried to, but Vegeta hadn't let go of it yet. Seeing her red face, he finally let go of the door and because of her pushing on it, the door slammed loudly.

From a small, white monitor, a baby's cry started up. Startled, Vegeta stared at it for a moment.

"Trunks is calling." Bulma grabbed her robe and headed down the hallway, distantly aware that her husband was following.

"I thought you said his room was soundproof". The Saiyan grumbled, and Bulma looked over at him. Happy that he'd managed to find and put on a clean pair of pants at least.

Bulma picked up the baby and sat down in a rocking chair just as a house-bot rrrr'ed up beside her and lifted up a bottle, already mixed and heated just right. She wondered if Vegeta was going to ask why she was no longer breast-feeding, or if he even knew about women doing that.

"How come ..." The Saiyan started.

"Your son likes to play with the nipple, and he's getting teeth." Bulma smiled ruefully. "And he is hungrier than I can keep up with."

Vegeta's question died on his lips. "Huh?"

"That's why I use a bottle to feed him." The turquoise-haired young woman explained.

The Saiyan's eyes widened, and he looked away for a moment. "No, that is ...why did you really come to the battlefield?"

"You invited us." Bulma stuck to her guns.

But Vegeta was not to be deterred. "You had to know it wasn't literal."

The young mother smiled and shrugged. "Just about everything you say is completely literal, Vegeta." She saw the look on his face and amended her words. "My man, my Saiyan ...you mean what you say."

Vegeta grunted in approval, but wasn't ready to let the moment go. "It's a very old Saiyan phrase."

Bulma waited, but he did not explain further. "Does it mean 'I love you'?" She almost whispered the question.

But the Saiyan Prince missed the hopeful note in her voice. "Of course not." He answered, disdainful of the very idea. "Saiyan warriors would never say something like that."

An awkward silence filled the room, broken only by the sounds of a greedy infant Saiyan drinking nearly twice the amount of formula than the average child. But even so, it wasn't long before Bulma was putting Trunks back into his crib.

She turned toward the door, and found her Saiyan husband making a point of NOT watching her. She wasn't fooled. "It does mean that you love me." Bulma said as she walked right past her husband and over to her bedroom where she grabbed the baby monitor and her favorite pillow.

"It does not." Vegeta sneered, then followed his mate to a nearby guest room. "It is a compliment though."

Bulma flopped down on the bed, and then turned to glare at her Saiyan. "I don't think so."

Her Saiyan was currently pulling off his pants and climbing into bed with her. She reached out and traced the line of a scar along his shoulder blade. "I would not take you into battle."

Suddenly, dark eyes turned upon her and Bulma nearly scooted off the bed. "What?"

"Woman!" Vegeta snarled. "What is it you want from me?"

"An explanation!" Bulma snarled back. "Just explain what it means, please!"

Vegeta sighed and laid back on the bed. "It's simple. You're telling the other person you trust them enough to let them guard your back in battle." He yawned. "You would let them stand at your back, even armed."

Bulma sat up slowly and looked down at her tired husband. "Trust? You trust me to be armed?"

"At my back and armed." Vegeta yawned again, his eyes closing. "It's a great honor."

Crossing her arms, Bulma stared. "Are there words meaning 'I love you' in your native language."

"No." He smirked. "We are not so weak as you."

Bulma smiled gently, but Vegeta's eyes were closed. He loved her. And he'd told her in the only way he knew how. To a Saiyan, trust was the whole enchilada, it was everything.

"You trust me." She whispered.

Vegeta frowned, his eyes still closed. "I trust you at my back, but not to stay put. Why do you not obey, woman?"

"I don't believe you trust me." Bulma smiled, eager to mess with his head a bit after he'd left her for over a year.

Vegeta's eyes slitted open. "I am a Prince of my people, and I would not lie about such a thing."

"Prove it." Bulma's eyes sparkled.

The Saiyan narrowed his gaze on her. She was up to something. "Prove my trust? Woman, you are stupid after all."

Bulma pulled the comforter from his nude body and looked down at him. She looked down at a certain part of him and smiled gleefully. "I know a way you can prove you trust me."

Vegeta looked at her face, and then remembered the time she'd been so hurt when she thought he didn't trust her. His face went blank. She wanted to bite him, or put him in a position where she could if she wanted to do so. "That's not a Saiyan custom." He pointed out.

His mate though, was not dissuaded. She reached out and ran one fingernail from his belly button down toward the root of his sexuality. His body reacted despite his best intentions. "No."

"Coward." She teased him softly.

Vegeta's eyes went wide with shock, and then narrowed on her in anger. "Bulma ..." Her name was a warning.

"Man, my man. My wonderful Saiyan Prince. My warrior." She breathed out the words gently, as she leaned down and placed a kiss on his lower belly.

Vegeta shivered, and not because it was bad. But instinct warred with need. No Saiyan would put a female in a position of such power and control. No. No, and NO.

"Man?"

But her words tugged at him like nothing else. Her heated breath held promises of something wonderful.

"Breakfast you two! And from the look of things this morning, I expect you to bring your best appetites!" The voice trilled from out in the hallway.

Vegeta jumped up and grabbed his pants, slipping back into them. "Food!" He growled, looked at her, and she could almost swear the tips of his cheekbones were slightly flushed. Or it could have been a trick of the light. "Breakfast."

Bulma watched her husband leave and then smiled all to herself. "You love me. You just don't know it yet, oh mighty Prince."


	18. Ignored

Vegeta reached out blindly to restart the training program, then hissed as he jerked his fingers back. The console has hot! The 'about to explode' kind of hot. The Saiyan blinked and wondered why things took a second to focus, finally he glanced at the time keeper and nodded. He'd been training non-stop for nearly 40 hours.

Before the knowledge, he'd been fine. But now that he knew the time, his stomach rumbled. Yes. He needed a chance to eat and refuel, and to let the machinery cool down.

Vegeta grabbed an already sweat soaked towel and winced. No clean drying cloths, over-heating machinery, and a lack of food. He frowned sharply. Why hadn't his mate called and pestered him about taking a break?

Or had she? Vegeta grunted and checked the messages. He could have just turned off the communication devices, he'd done so before although he didn't remember doing it ...no, they were on and ...there were no messages.

The Saiyan frowned again. It wasn't like his mate not to nag him. Was she simply out of practice after his long absence? Or was she trying to teach him a lesson. Like that would work. He snorted derisively.

Vegeta walked out of the training pod and blinked in the sudden sunlight. Suddenly he yawned, one of those jaw-cracking deals. His frown turned into an outright scowl. He shouldn't be so tired, not from a little training.

Of course, there had been the fights with the androids. Still, he was of royal Saiyan blood and should still be ... "WOMAN!"

A beat. Foul emotions flew through him, fed by a lack of sleep and a distinct lack of food. "WOMAN!" He bellowed again, not even sure what it was he wanted from Bulma.

The angry Saiyan stalked toward the main house, frustrated and upset even though he knew it wasn't really her fault he was so tired and hungry. Even if she had called him and told him to take a break, he wouldn't have done it.

But she hadn't called. She always called. But she hadn't, not this time.

"WOMAN!"

o.O.o.O.o.O

"So ..." The word was dragged out, and then a very long pause. Bulma waited for it. "Vegeta? Really?" Yep. There it was. She winced at the disgusted tone of voice.

"Chi Chi, I'm ..." What? She wasn't sorry. Not about the relationship, even though it was crazy how it all came together. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you." There, that she really could apologize for.

There was another long pause and Bulma could almost hear the thoughts racing through the other woman's mind. Where to start? That she was now mated with the man who had tried repeatedly to kill Chi Chi's husband? That she'd hidden their relationship, and her pregnancy? That Bulma was the worst kind of friend, some kind of hussy, and ...and ...untrustworthy? She decided to let Chi Chi have her say, hard as it was.

But when the words finally came, they weren't what she expected. "Your baby? Trunks? You ...you had changed ...how did you put it ..."

Click. Bulma's mind shifted from recrimination and suddenly knew what Chi Chi was asking. "Changing your body chemistry." She whispered.

A pause. Chi Chi's voice firmed. "You owe me."

Bulma nodded, unmindful that the other woman couldn't see her over the phone. "Vegeta insisted I tell no one of our pregnancy, to protect against enemies. Not that you are an enemy!"

"Only married to the man your husband is trying to kill." Chi Chi sighed and gave a wry laugh.

Bulma took a deep breath. "He says 'defeat', not kill. Not anymore. And they are working together to beat the androids. But forget that right now. We were talking about getting you pregnant."

Chi Chi didn't say anything, though Bulma could almost 'hear' her holding her breath.

"No embarrassment, we need to talk straight out. I was on birth control pills to prevent getting pregnant when it happened. I assume you were too, when you conceived Gohan." Bulma ignored her own slight blush.

"Really, Bulma." Chi Chi sighed. "Yes, well ...yes. You shouldn't talk like that, but ...yes."

The turquoise-haired woman smiled wanly. "I think the pills change our body chemistry to be more receptive to the Saiyans. Allows us to get pregnant, and not doing ...er, what they were designed to actually do."

"Really?" The voice was a whisper now, infused with longing. "Do you really think so?"

"Yes. I'm ...I'm going off of the pills for right now." Bulma crossed her fingers. "Me being pregnant freaked Vegeta out. Oh, he wanted his son, but he didn't handle me actually being pregnant well."

Something loud in the background, from outside. Bulma ignored it, keeping her focus on her telephone conversation. "We don't have a lot of data to base this on, just me and you. But both of us got pregnant while actively taking birth control pills. You haven't been able to get pregnant while NOT taking the pills. What will it really hurt for you to try them again?"

Soft breathing on the other line as Goku's wife tried to work through it all. Bulma winced as she recognized the bellowing in the background as her erstwhile mate. Husband. Whatever. "I really think it's worth a try, Chi Chi." She nearly whispered.

Baby Trunks gave a whimper from his high chair and Bulma tucked the phone between her shoulder and cheek so she could pick up the baby. Immediately the boy smiled and made a grab for the phone. Bulma chuckled and moved him to the opposite hip while she waited for Chi Chi's response.

"I still don't know why you married that monster." Chi Chi answered, but her voice was much softer now. Bulma knew without it being said that the other woman had made a decision.

"WOMAN!" Vegeta shouted at her from the doorway, glowering at the sight of her on the phone. "I have need of you!"

Bulma deliberately turned her back on the Saiyan Prince, bounced Baby Trunks on her hip twice as he reached out for something on the counter, and spoke into the phone. "I've got to go, his mister high-and-mighty is making demands." A pause, a giggle. "No, not the bigger one. The really cute new one."

"WOMAN!" Vegeta bellowed, then grunted as he saw her hang up the phone. "About time! Don't you know ...what are you doing?"

Bulma ignored him as she put the baby boy back in a high seat with a tray, the baby kicking and protesting until she took a bowl of food and a spoon. Then the boy grinned and waved his arms imperiously.

Vegeta watched his mate coo and smile as she bent forward to feed the baby.

"Woman." His volume was lower, but no less insistent. "There are no clean drying cloths and the machine is over-heating." That wasn't all he wanted to say. But watching her ignore him to focus on the baby was making him feel ...off balance somehow.

"Fresh towels are in the dryer, I haven't folded them yet but help yourself." She didn't even look at him as she made a funny face for the giggling baby. "Open wide baby Trunks!"

Help himself? Vegeta stared at his wife's back. Her hair was different, but with his mate that was nothing new. She changed styles constantly. Her blouse was ...not formfitting. Vegeta frowned, she wasn't dressed to entice him. Her shorts where baggy and she was not in those ridiculous high heels she seemed to like. Which he liked seeing her in, he admitted to himself reluctantly.

"Get them for me, woman." He deliberately poked at her temper, something else he'd missed while away. "And food. Lots of food."

"In the refrigerator." Bulma said absently, spooning some sort of pureed glop into the baby's mouth. "Help yourself. I have to take care of baby Trunks."

"Help myself." Vegeta repeated. Then grinned evilly as he reached out and ran a possessive hand over her rear end. "I think I will."

Bulma spun, slapped his hand and gave him a sharp frown. "Not now, Vegeta. Can't you see I'm busy with the baby?"

Stunned, the Saiyan watched his mate mutter to herself as she turned to grab a chair and sat down to continue feeding the child.

Baby Trunks looked up at the man standing over he and his mom and started to make a face, a frown appeared, a lip trembled. Then crying. Loud, irritating crying. Vegeta blinked, unsure.

"Go away, Vegeta, you're scaring baby Trunks!" Bulma scooped up the baby and cradled him to her chest as she rocked him.

The Saiyan glared at his son and mate, unsure why all of a sudden, he wanted to break something really, really big. He gritted his teeth.

"Where is my big boy, where is my handsome boy?" Bulma's blonde mother rushed into the room and Vegeta started to relax. Yes, she could take the baby and he could get his mate back. Saiyan women more often than not gave up their infants to child care specialists in order to get back out on the battlefield. In this case, getting Bulma back to taking care of him rather than the baby.

Vegeta frowned. No, that didn't sound right. He didn't want her nagging at him again. His dark eyes cut over to where the two women were fussing over how much the baby was eating. But he also didn't want to be ignored. He coughed.

Bulma's mother looked up with a wide smile. "Oh, there you are! I have just the thing for you!"

Tension eased slightly. Food. Food in great quantities. His stomach rumbled. Yes, that was why he was feeling so foul, he was hungry.

"I left the boxes in the other room." Bulma's mother then bent down and made cooing sounds for the now giggling baby.

Vegeta frowned. "Boxes?" That didn't sound like food, unless they ordered in. He opened the door to the living room and blinked. There were indeed a lot of boxes. And bags. And they all seemed to not be smelling of food. The Saiyan opened one box and frowned at the clothing inside. He pulled out the shirt and went back into the kitchen.

"What the hell is this?" He growled.

Bulma looked up and then smiled. "Oh, I like that color, mom."

The blonde grinned and nodded her head, even as she petted baby Trunks and tickled his little belly. A game the baby really seemed to enjoy.

A vein started throbbing near Vegeta's left temple. "I have no need of new clothing."

Bulma sighed, getting irritated with her personal Saiyan warrior. "It's a new shirt, Vegeta. Say thank you and move on. No big deal."

The pretty blonde moved on to playing peek-a-boo with Trunks, not even looking at the others. "Oh no, not just a new shirt, a whole new wardrobe."

Vegeta nodded at Bulma's surprised look. He held up the new shirt. "There is a mountain of boxes in the other room."

She shook her head. But Vegeta merely shrugged. He wasn't kidding.

Bulma looked over at her distracted mother and sighed. "Mom. Why did you buy Vegeta a whole new wardrobe?"

The blonde smiled prettily and looked up at her daughter, and then over at her son-in-law. "Space particles must have eaten up all his clothes. He didn't have a stitch to his name the other night."

Bulma's eyes closed dramatically as she blushed, remembering how Vegeta had opened the door to the hallway stark naked. With her mother right there in the hallway, unsuspecting.

"Poor, poor Mr. Vegeta. Those space particles are bad for clothing apparently." The blonde continued, oblivious.

"I don't need clothes, I need food." Vegeta balled up the shirt in his hands. "Food. Do you not remember food?"

Bulma's mother finally seemed to hear him, blinking vapidly for a second. Then she smiled brightly. "Would you hand me that fruit on the table?"

Fruit? He needed something more substantial than mere fruit. Vegeta looked at the table though and saw nothing but some tiny jars. He frowned. He picked up one jar with the picture of an apple on it. His frown deepened. This wasn't even enough for a snack.

"Thank you!" Bulma took the jar from him without another word. "Mom, he seemed to like sweet potatoes last night."

Vegeta felt a headache starting. Probably from lack of food. The fruit was for his son. The baby. He ground his teeth together as baby Trunks slapped his hands down on his little tray and immediately the two woman rushed to give him more food. It wasn't fair!

Dr. Briefs walked into the room, then smiled at his family. "Oh, there you all are. Glad to have you back, young man." He nodded at Vegeta and then walked over to the refrigerator.

"They aren't cooking." Vegeta complained.

The doctor nodded. "Haven't since Trunks arrived." The older man opened the door to the refrigerator and pulled out a giant sandwich. "I've been having food delivered in for a while. Stepped up the order when I saw you were back. Help yourself."

The Saiyan Prince gathered his tattered dignity, accepted the sandwich and reached for two more before sitting down. It would be a start. He glared over at the oblivious women, who were still ignoring him for that small, puling, child. His son. "Bah."

Vegeta took a giant bite of his sandwich while he stewed in his bad temper.

o.O.o.O.o.O

Twenty sandwiches later, and after devouring an entire pot of stewed beef from a local restaurant, as well as a baked chicken and rack of ribs, Vegeta was feeling better. The shower had helped.

Even better? Trunks was taking a nap.

Vegeta looked down at his sleeping son and finally was able to nod. A son. His son. One that would grow into a very young Super Saiyan. He knew, because he'd met the future version of his son. So. The boy would grow. That was good.

And maybe it wasn't bad that his mate was taking care of the child. Vegeta would just have to talk to her that his needs came first, before the infant. She'd understand, his mate was quite smart after all.

Bulma. Vegeta grunted softly, so as not to wake the child. The last thing he needed was for his mate to become distracted again. He needed to lay out some new rules. Like how his needs came first.

Vegeta checked the kitchen and living room, but Bulma wasn't there. He went up the stairs and to their room. Excitement started to build slowly. Perhaps she was waiting on him, even now. The Saiyan opened the door and smiled.

Bulma was indeed on their bed and waiting ...she snorted, rolled and settled. His mate was ...asleep?

Vegeta shifted his weight and tugged on her ankle. "Woman."

Bulma sat straight up, her hair sticking out at funny angles. "What's wrong with Trunks?" She demanded.

"Nothing."

Bulma nodded and flopped back on the bed bonelessly.

Vegeta frowned. He jerked on her ankle a bit harder. "Woman!"

She sat back up, blinking wearily at him. Vegeta frowned. She really did look tired. "What's wrong?"

"Hire someone to take care of the baby." He told her. Suddenly he didn't like how tired she looked any more than he didn't like how she was ignoring him.

Bulma blinked twice, rubbed her eyes and then stared at him. "Huh?"

"Hire someone to take care of the baby." He repeated, making it an order.

"No." Bulma's jaw firmed and she glared at him.

o.O.o.O.o.O

Bulma yawned, desperately wanting her nap. The baby was napping, and that meant she should be doing the same. But nooooo ... instead she was watching Vegeta pace back and forth ranting and raving about something stupid.

She didn't need help with the baby. Trunks was a little angel! What she needed ...was a nap. That's all. A simple nap.

The turquoise-haired woman barely even listened as her Saiyan mate continued to rant, enumerating reasons she needed help.

It was insulting. Like she couldn't take care of the baby. Who did he think had been taking care of the baby while he'd been away?

It was with a slight shock that she realized he had stopped and was staring at her. Waiting for an answer. Crud. She didn't know the question. Still ...she figured she knew her answer. "No." She said calmly, then yawned. "Now go away."

"I've been away you crazy, stupid woman!" Vegeta roared, and Bulma winced. He'd wake ...oh, wait ...sound proof. She looked over at the baby monitor. Yep, Trunks was still asleep, thank goodness. "And you act as if you don't care I've even come home!"

Blink. Blink. Tear up. Blink faster to keep the tears from forming. Bulma's mind raced. Finally connecting the silly dots. "You're jealous."

The whispered words hit like a sledgehammer. "I AM NOT!" The Saiyan bellowed. "Jealous of what? You? YOU ARE MY MATE!"

"And Trunks is your son!" She bit out the words.

"Who should be cared for by nannies and tutors and stuff." Vegeta was glaring at her.

Bulma smiled sharply, completely disregarding his foul mood. "So that I can care for you?" She said with mock sweetness.

"YES!" He roared. Then glared some more. "I mean no."

"Is the big man all out of sorts because he feels ignored?" Bulma dared to mock him further as she slid from the bed to put her arms around his muscular waist.

Vegeta sighed, even as he accepted her embrace, though he was slow to put his arms around her. "You make fun of me at your own peril, woman."

"Man." She sighed and pressed a kiss over his heart. "You're acting younger than Trunks."

"You didn't nag."

Bulma smiled against his chest. It wasn't a declaration of love, but in a way ...it was sweeter. "Do you want me to nag?"

"Of course not, stupid woman." Vegeta tucked his head between her shoulder and neck. "I did not miss you." He lied.

"I missed you." Bulma gave him the words he needed to hear. She started to tell him to go away now, she still wanted that nap. But a snuffling sound from the baby monitor distracted her. "Trunks."

Vegeta watched as his wife sped from the room, following her reluctantly as he peeked into the nursery. He frowned at the pictures of baby animals on the walls. "This room is not a place for a future warrior."

Bulma put baby Trunks down on something the warrior couldn't name and began to undress him. The baby was kicking his legs in protest. "What? There should be war pictures around here? Dripping with blood and gore?"

Vegeta stared at a picture of a lamb in a field. He sneered. "It would be preferable. But more along the lines of a Saiyan standing victorious on the battlefield."

"You need to hold your son." Bulma smiled as she pulled off the baby's soiled diaper.

Vegeta slowly went over and looked at his son, now happily grinning up at them, nude from the waist down. He wondered how quickly the boy would grow and if the future Trunks became a Super Saiyan at such a young age without his father, how much better would the boy do with Vegeta there to guide him? "When can I begin training him?"

Bulma scowled deeply. "Not for years, Vegeta. Now stop that."

"Years?" The Saiyan frowned.

And it was lucky his mouth was closed because at that moment, baby Trunks christened his father by peeing on him. The arc shooting up suddenly before either parent could react.

Trying hard not to laugh, Bulma quickly cleaned the baby and put on a fresh diaper. She dared not to speak, or she knew she'd lose it.

With quiet dignity, Vegeta ripped off his new shirt and tossed it in the trash. "Did you teach him to do that?"

Bulma bit her lip to keep from smiling, she merely shook her head.

Vegeta nodded. "I'm going to go train." He announced solemnly.

"I'll nag you in ten hours." Bulma promised.

Vegeta grunted. "I will not respond."

They both knew that while he wouldn't agree to the break when she nagged, that he would be upset if she didn't nag at him to rest. The thought warmed her.

"You will go back on those pills." He said with quiet authority.

Bulma nodded, not even trying to explain that the pills would have the opposite effect. She'd try to explain later and if he insisted, she'd just get a placebo set of birth control pills. Neither of them were ready for another child. Not yet.

When she didn't argue, Vegeta grunted in appreciation. He opened the door, then stopped as he saw Bulma's mother standing there, hand out as if she'd been about to open the door.

Bare chested, Vegeta stared at the blonde woman. She smiled and tutted at him. "I think you need a different soap."

Bulma and Vegeta both looked at each other in confusion. "Soap, mom?" The turquoise-haired woman asked first.

"Well the kind he has isn't cleaning off the space particles. They're still tearing up his clothes." The bubbly blonde smiled. "More shopping!"

Vegeta muttered something under his breath about Earth women and left the room to head toward the training capsule.

Bulma's mother stared after the departing Saiyan. "Perhaps we need to get shirts made out of the stuff your father uses to make that space ship work. Something to keep those nasty space particles from tearing up his clothes!"

"This time it wasn't from space. He got peed on, mom." Bulma smiled and ticked the baby. "Good aim, Trunks. Good aim!"


	19. Something New

Vegeta entered the room with a scowl.

Bulma spotted him immediately and skirted the dance floor, beaming. "I'm so glad you remembered and could come!"

The Saiyan mumbled under his breath and gave her a sharp look. "Remembered?" He shook his head at her. "You rigged alarms to go off in the training pod every 15 minutes for two hours before I needed to get ready. And in case I missed it? You rigged the entire system to 'crash' and refuse to restart until tomorrow."

Bulma smiled gently and straightened the lapel on his dark suit jacket. "You look handsome." She ignored his griping. Not mentioning that she'd picked out his clothing and had left it out for him.

"Woman ..." He drew out the word more like a warning than an endearment.

"Well, you do." Bulma announced and brushed non-existent lint from his broad shoulders. "Dance with me."

Vegeta eyed the dancers spinning in their colorful clothing. He sneered and refused.

The turquoise-haired woman at his side laughed and nodded, she'd expected that.

The Saiyan warrior looked over at the buffet tables and shook his head. "You left out a ton of food for me to eat before coming over here. Why? They have food here."

"And cake." Bulma's smile turned crafty. She'd deliberately made sure that her mate had eaten BEFORE the party so as not to get embarrassed at his eating habits.

Beside her, her Saiyan mate stiffened. He growled. He actually growled. Bulma could almost 'feel' the rising tide of anger within him. "Vegeta? Man? My man?" She tried to turn his attention to her. "What is it?"

"Why is he here?" The hardness in his voice was making her nerves twinge painfully.

"No fighting. Not at the party. Please?" Bulma put her hand on Vegeta's arm. "And of course Goku is here, he's my friend. And it's my party."

"No. HIM." Vegeta pointed rudely and Bulma looked in that direction and winced. "Oh, Yamcha."

"You invited ..."

"No." Bulma sighed and shook her head. "I didn't invite him." Though she'd considered it, after all he'd been her friend for a very long time. Still, she had not sent him an invitation. "He came as a ...a ...friend's date."

Dark eyes narrowed on his perceived rival. There was a woman hanging off his arm, one that Vegeta had even met before. He frowned sharply. "Hardly a friend. You don't even like her."

"Guma Shinten? You are correct, sir! I do not like her at all." Bulma sniffed, holding her mouth as if she had caught wind of something rotten.

"So why invite her to your party?" Vegeta continued to glare at his mate's former lover. And, sensing the attention, Yamcha turned to look at them. The Saiyan stiffened even further.

Bulma sighed. "No choice, really. She invited me to her birthday party a few months ago." She decided not to go into details about being business rivals as well as personal ones. It was a long story.

Vegeta gritted his teeth as he saw Yamcha look over at the pretty turquoise-haired woman who was HIS mate. Then stilled as the young Earth warrior looked away again, as if dismissing Bulma.

Now Bulma stiffened instead. Vegeta looked at her, unsure of the emotions involved here. "If you didn't go to her party, why invite her to yours?" He asked simply.

"I did go."

Vegeta shook his head. He hadn't gone. He hadn't known about it.

"You were training." Bulma pointed out.

"You didn't badger me with invitations and 'little reminders' like you did for this one." His eyes narrowed suspiciously. Had Yamcha been at that other party? Had his mate been seeing the other man behind his back? "You didn't want me to go." It wasn't that he'd wanted to be nagged into a frivolous party, but he didn't like being kept in the dark about it either.

As if reading his mind, Bulma tightened her grip on her mate's forearm. "She had a different date then. And I went by myself." Her words hid the hurt she'd felt being seen without her Saiyan. Guma Shinten had made a big deal about Bulma attending alone. Thus her badgering Vegeta to be here tonight, at her party.

Only now Guma had spotted them, and was gloating as she glided along on Yamcha's arm. To his credit, the Z-fighter looked distinctly uncomfortable.

"Oh Bulma darling, you DO have a ...toy, after all." Guma Shinten was still stinging over the insults that Vegeta had offered her at their last meeting. "Still no ring? Tsk. And your son almost a year old now?"

Yamcha choked a moment and cleared his throat, but didn't speak.

Guma smiled brighter. "Have you met the star of our local baseball team?" Fake smile, fake intake of shocked breath. "Oh, I forgot. You two used to be an item! How could I? My bad."

"Nice to see you Yamcha." Bulma spoke as evenly as possible, digging her fingers into Vegeta's arm until they were white with effort. She prayed he was getting the message not to start a fight, not at her party.

The young man nodded, clearly uncomfortable. "I just knew it was Guma's friend's birthday, I didn't know it was yours."

Bulma nodded, relieved that Yamcha hadn't come here to make her feel badly about how they'd ended.

"Oh! I didn't mean to embarrass you about the lack of rings." Guma tutted her tongue in a chiding manner. "If you want to live so ...commonly, that is of course your prerogative. Not for me, you understand. I could never stand the shame."

Vegeta looked at Yamcha, glowering enough to make the Earth-born man start to sweat a bit. "Leave."

Yamcha nodded, knowing he was getting off lucky.

"Not until I get my dance!" Guma grabbed his arm and led him off, futilely protesting, to the dance floor.

The Saiyan Prince watched them a moment, scowling.

Bulma leaned into him. "No sex tonight or all week if you start a fight at my birthday party."

"Do not threaten me woman, and I'll fight when and where I want." Grouched the Saiyan.

Bulma nodded and tried to re-direct the conversation. "I just hope they brought me a kick-ass present. Look at the mounds of loot!"

Vegeta cut his eyes to the side and eyed the laden table. He frowned. "Presents."

"To celebrate my birthday."

Bulma grinned up at him. "Lots and lots of presents, I think I'm in heaven."

Suddenly unsettled, Vegeta eyed the gifts. Then looked down into the laughing eyes of his mate. He sighed as he realized the truth. "And what kick-ass present did I get you?" He asked.

Bulma's smile grew even bigger. She touched the line of her plunging dress and Vegeta looked down into some very impressive cleavage. His mouth twitched. He immediately spotted the pretty diamond and ruby pendant on the gold chain. "I picked that out, I assume."

"You have marvelous taste in jewelry it seems." She whispered, crossing her eyes teasingly at him. "You even had it designed and hand-made especially for me."

Vegeta grunted and looked at her, glowing with happiness beside him. His mood lightened. He looked down at her hand, still resting on his forearm though no longer trying to hold him back.

His mate was a marvel. She wanted him at a party, she got him. She wanted no fighting, there was no fighting. She wanted a pretty necklace, and she got one. So what if she made everyone think it came from him? Still ...he eyed her hand and his expression stilled.

What had the silly woman with the fake chest said? No rings.

Vegeta eyed the other party goers around him, all chatting and having a good time. What his mate wanted, she bullied and nagged until she got it for the most part. And ...if she wanted his rings, he'd know, she'd not let him know peace until he did what she wanted. He'd dragged her to the stupid Earth temple twice and she'd not said 'yes' to any of the men. She didn't want his rings.

By Saiyan standards, she was his mate. Wife. Spouse. End of story. Only ...she didn't see it that way. And neither did any one else here on this silly planet.

Feeling off-kilter, Vegeta scowled, making a near-by waiter stumble and spill wine over some older woman. The woman jumped back, tripping over her own stupid shoes and fell into the dancers.

Vegeta scowled again as he realized that Bulma had been to a party ...without him. When he was off training, she was still ...she went out, she did things! He'd known that, of course. But he'd not considered what it meant to have her out and about and appearing to be unclaimed! Unacceptable!

Bulma covered her mouth in horror as the older woman knocked one of the dancing couples into another couple. The young man stepped on the long maxi dress of the other couple, and ... it was Guma Shinten. Yamcha was quick enough to get out of the way. But Guma's dress was still being stood on and when she moved, it got pulled down and showed her pink strapless bra.

Guma shrieked and pulled on her dress, making the man standing on the hem flail. Striking the champagne glass out of the hand of a young woman, and soaking one of Bulma's school friends.

Chaos and shrieking. Bulma turned huge eyes over to Vegeta, only to find him glaring at her as if she'd done something terrible. "Huh?" Was all she could manage.

Vegeta glared at her. "This is all your fault, woman!" And then he stalked out of the room.

Bulma gaped after him, then looked around her party with shocked eyes as everyone tried to fix what had happened. Though Guma was still wailing, she was at least covered back up again.

Bulma couldn't help herself. "Oh, shut up Gummy. You manage to flash your breasts at every party you attend. What's the difference now?"

Guma Shinten did not look amused as her face turned a mottled red, even as everyone around her nodded in agreement.

Turning back to look at the exit, Bulma wondered what Vegeta had meant? "How was this all my fault?"

o.o.o.o.o

Two months. Two damned months since her birthday party. No Vegeta.

Bulma scowled. Where was her dratted Saiyan? She took off her borrowed gardening hat and glared over at her mother, who somehow still looked fresh despite the heat.

Not Bulma, no. She had to have sweat dripping off her nose and her turquoise hair damp and soaked to her skin. Pink skin. "I need more sun screen ..."

There was a 'whoosh' of sound, like a quick gust of wind. Then nothing.

Bulma's mother looked up and saw her daughter was gone. "Oh, she must have gone to get more sun screen. That's nice." And went back to puttering in her garden.

o.o.o.o.o

Bulma had one hand clamped onto her hat to keep it on her head, and another clinging tightly to Vegeta. Not that she could SEE it was her Saiyan. But she'd been in his arms enough to know.

Finally she gave up on the hat, and let the wind take it, only to feel it catch on the ribbons and hang from her neck. She scowled. Vegeta didn't even spare her a glance.

"VEGETA!" She shrieked. He ignored her. She yelled again. Same response.

She punched him, then howled as she knew it had hurt her hand more than it had hurt him. But it did get him to look at her. She caught her breath. She couldn't read him. He looked ...determined.

Bulma sighed, she had no choice but to wait and ...she swallowed back a curse as the two of them dropped suddenly, then slowed to touch the ground gently. "What the hell?"

"Here."

The turquoise-haired woman took the box into her hands automatically, still somewhat in shock. "You kidnapped me."

"This way."

The Saiyan took her hand and led her inside. Inside what? Bulma blinked at the sudden dimness of the lights after being out in the bright sun. She pushed back her sweaty hair and blinked. "Temple?" She deducted, then squeaked in protest as Vegeta pushed her up toward the man waiting for them.

"Begin."

Bulma's mind was having a hard time catching up. Then she stared at the temple priest, who was staring back at her. "Wait a moment ..."

The elderly priest looked confused. "I thought you said you two wanted to get married?"

"Married?" Bulma's jaw dropped. She touched her sweaty hair and her eyes went wide. "I can't get married like this!"

"You will tell the man 'yes' this time, woman." Vegeta gave her a long, arrogant look.

"I will?" She couldn't seem to grasp what was going on around her.

"That's a yes." Vegeta pointed out to the temple priest, who was looking decidedly unsure.

Bulma was shocked, but not stupid. She was catching on. "Now wait a minute! I did not say yes!"

Vegeta took her aside, ignoring the sputtering priest. "Why?"

Bulma shook her head. "I look a mess!"

"It's just me and you." He pointed out, reasonably enough in his mind.

"And the priest and the witnesses." Bulma wailed, waving an arm at two ladies arranging flowers and eavesdropping the best they could.

Vegeta frowned. "Do you want me to get rid of them?"

Bulma took a deep breath. "No, No ...I just want to wait to get married when I look nice and my parents can be there and Trunks of course."

Vegeta shook his head. "Excuses. You have refused me in front of the marriage man twice now. You have accepted that we are mated, but you continue to refuse me by your standards. I am done waiting."

Her mouth dropped. "YOU? YOU are done waiting? You arrogant ass! I'm the one who had to wait so you could train on another damned planet! I'm the one who was left pregnant and waiting for you! What the hell have you been waiting for?"

"For you to wear my rings and say yes!" Vegeta roared back at her.

"Ring?"

Vegeta lifted her hand and Bulma was shocked to realize she was still holding a box. A box he'd shoved into her hands.

"They are very nice rings." A shaky voice intruded.

Bulma turned to see an elderly gentleman and his wife beaming at her. She was suddenly sure she had horrid sweat marks under her arms. "Who are they?"

Vegeta nodded to the couple and turned back to Bulma. "He made the rings."

She couldn't help it. Curiosity would always be her undoing. It had led her to the dragon balls, to Namek, and to kissing Vegeta ...now it ... "Oh my goodness." She whispered as she opened the box to see a beautiful set of gold rings.

One masculine and perfect. One delicate and engraved. And one with a perfect princess cut diamond surrounded by smaller diamonds, just as beautiful.

"You didn't, how did you ..."

The jeweler walked up to her, peering proudly at his work. "The young man came in with a hunk of raw gold. Traded the extra gold for the diamonds. Picked out the cut himself. Took two months working almost around the clock. I wanted to trade the raw gold for something already on hand, but he wanted it to be from the gold he'd brought me."

Bulma suddenly had tears in her eyes. Vegeta sounded worried as she leaned into him. "Woman?"

"I look awful!" Wailed the woman in his arms. "And I stink!"

The priest coughed, "Perhaps another time would be best?"

"No." Vegeta's expression darkened. "Not again. Now."

The jeweler's wife smiled and pulled a pretty enameled pin from her hair. "How's this for something borrowed?"

One of the ladies arranging flowers grinned and grabbed some blue flowers. "These will work for something blue. But what about something old?"

Without looking up, Bulma held up her sweat soaked hat. "It's my mother's gardening hat, she's had it forever."

Everyone looked at each other and then smiled. "Good enough." The jeweler's wife said. "And the rings are new."

"Woman?"

The turquoise-haired woman looked up, wiping at the tear tracks on her face. She smiled at Vegeta and he blinked. "I'll say yes, you damned man. But you have to promise me one thing."

Vegeta eyed his mate cautiously.

She grinned. "If you want me to say yes, here and now. You have to agree to let me bite you tonight."

"Bite?" The jeweler and his wife both blushed. The priest blushed. The two young women laughed with delight.

Vegeta eyed her like she was a huge spirit bomb about to explode. He knew what she meant. She was talking about oral sex. Something he was very much against, for cultural reasons.

"I'll say yes, if you prove you trust me." She said in a sing-song voice, knowing there was an even chance he'd change his mind about this whole thing. "Well? What's it going to be?"

o.o.o.o.o

Another 'whoosh' of air had Bulma's mother looking up. She smiled as she looked at her daughter and her young man. "Oh, hello there! Did you get the sun screen, darling?"

Bulma blinked, looking stunned. "No, er ...no I didn't."

Vegeta looked smug as he glanced down at her hand, and the rings positioned on her finger. Finally.

His mate looked up at his arrogant expression and her own smile turned evil. "Just you wait."

The Saiyan's smile fumbled a bit as he grunted, wondering if he could talk her out of this whole trust issue.

"Just you wait."

Vegeta took a deep breath. No. No he was going to have to go through with it after all. Damn.


	20. A Picture is Worth At Least Three Words

"Damn it, Vegeta!" Bulma groused at her husband. Husband. The word made her slightly dizzy. "Smile!"

The Saiyan merely gave her a hard look and didn't bother to uncross his arms. "I'm here. And I don't see the point in this."

Over to one side, Bulma flashed a skinny little man in jeans a 'wait one moment more' hand signal.

The man sighed. "I'll just take a few more pictures of your wedding cake. Again."

Bulma pressed two fingers to her temple, trying to stave off the stress headache just as her mother hurried over to her looking worried.

"Oh my dear, my darling. I think wittle sweet baby Trunks may have made a mess." The blonde smiled, and held up a grinning toddler who'd just taken his first few steps just the other day in the garden.

The turquoise-haired young mother looked over at the cake, no it was fine. Her blue eyes turned to the presents. No, they were fine too. She looked over at the flower decorated trellis and saw not one darned daisy out of place. She looked at her mother, who wrinkled her nose.

"Oh, that kind of mess." Bulma nodded. "Mom, could you take care of it please? I have to corral Mister Prince of the Whole Universe to let the nice man take a picture with his WIFE!" Her voice may have started off sweet, but it rose as she turned to glare at the object of all her frustration.

Vegeta didn't look at all interested. He even managed to look bored.

"VEGETA!"

The Saiyan warrior narrowed his eyes and gave her a cross look. "Woman, I am right here. Take your damned picture so I can go back to training."

"I. Would. If. You. Would. Damn. Well. Smile!" Bulma got out the words one at a time through her gritted teeth.

"Oh really, Bulma darling. Your language. Is that the way a young wife and mother should speak in front of her baby?"

Steam nearly came out of her ears as she watched her mother trail off toward the house carrying a smiling, if stinky, little boy.

Vegeta eyed his fuming wife, and looked over at the hired photographer. "One picture, then I'm going to go train."

"Will you smile?" She almost begged.

"No."

Bulma resisted the urge to pull at her hair that had taken nearly an hour at the hairdresser's to sweep up into an intricate up-do. "All I want is a beautiful wedding picture. Really, is that too much to ask?"

Vegeta eyed his mate for a moment. "It's not our wedding. That was last week."

"A bride has a right to look gorgeous on her wedding day!" Bulma hissed, plucking at the folds of her new fluffy monstrosity of a dress.

"You look like a cupcake." Vegeta eyed her speculatively. "It's stupid."

Bulma took a deep breath, counted to ten and then moved on to twenty for good measure. Then an idea. She opened her eyes and glared at him. "Is there a Saiyan custom we haven't done yet?"

For the first time the warrior looked unsure. "Huh?"

"This is a tradition. A bridal tradition. Here, for me." Bulma gave him a patently false smile. "Is there something we could do for your traditions? Something Saiyan? A trade, perhaps?"

Vegeta actually gave her a small grin and shook his head. "No. We covered it all."

"Traditional gifts? Foods? Words?" Bulma started pulling out ideas from nowhere, just trying to convince her obstinate husband to stand by her and take ONE lousy picture that didn't have her in her mother's sweat-stained gardening hat.

Her warrior stiffened slightly and shifted his weight.

Bulma's instincts went on high alert. "There is something!"

Vegeta shook his head and shrugged. "No. I'm just getting ready to leave. Take the picture and be done with it."

"Tell me what it is!" Bulma rushed up to him, glaring hard.

The photographer yawned and looked at the couple, then grinned and started taking pictures of the hard assed male and the frothy woman in the poofy dress who was shaking her finger in his face.

Vegeta sighed. "As a proper gift, I should drop at your feet the dead and bleeding body of one of your enemies. But it's an ancient tradition and was out of practice even before my race was destroyed. It turned into the male giving you a weapon soaked in the blood of your enemy." He sneered. "You really want me to do that so you can take your damned picture?"

Bulma stared at him a moment, then mutely shook her head. He sneered. She frowned at him, "I like Earth traditions better. Go get married, kiss the bride, take a picture and go on a honeymoon." Her voice wavered a bit. Today was not going as she'd planned.

Vegeta stared at her a moment, then grabbed her, pulling her full into his arms. He didn't care about crushing her dress, or even if she could breathe. His hand moved to the back of her head and dislodged dozens of tiny pins and small beads as Bulma managed to squeak out a protest.

He grinned darkly at her and kissed her until she nearly passed out from lack of oxygen, bending her over his other arm as the Saiyan warrior ravaged her mouth in a kiss so hot her face went blush red. She could almost literally feel her lips swelling under the onslaught.

The click of the camera whirred quietly.

Finally, Vegeta straightened up, allowing Bulma to stand on her own. Though he had to reach out and steady her for a moment as she tried to catch her balance.

He grinned.

She gaped at him, horrified at how she must look. Her hair was a mess, her make-up was smeared, and her poofy flounces were seriously deflated and crushed.

"But ...but ...how ... WHY?"

Vegeta grinned and tore off his tie, tossing it to her and she caught it absently. "We got married. We had a picture then. I kissed the bride. And we can't go on a honeymoon until I destroy our enemies and save your planet."

Bulma had no words.

"I'm going to train."

Staring at his retreating back, Bulma found her words again. "For this? Just wait until tonight, you still haven't let me bite you."

If Vegeta heard her, he gave no indication. The photographer was staring at her though, and grinning. She gave him a horrified look and stomped off back to the house in her ruined wedding finery.

The photographer sighed. "I guess that means we're not cutting the cake, then?"

.III

Vegeta yawned and leaned into the shower spray, letting the hot water and steam carry away the sweat and grime of nearly five full days of training.

Training to save this stupid planet, not to hide from his mate. Vegeta scowled and tried to relax his shoulders.

The blasted woman was back to nagging him again. "Take a break, Vegeta. You're overdoing it. Trunks needs to see you and get used to you. Bah."

.III

Bulma wrinkled her nose at the musty odor of sweat. "Leave it to a Saiyan to turn a beautiful piece of technology into a stinky gym."

She sighed and made sure the cleaning bots were taking care of things as they should. The turquoise-haired woman tapped a few commands on her portable tablet and synced it with the console. As the diagnostic programs ran, she looked around.

"You see more of him than I do." Bulma sighed. It wouldn't do at all to start thinking of the gravity room like 'another woman'.

The young woman kicked a towel into the path of a cleaning bot and sighed. She'd thought, hoped really, that Vegeta's insistence on a wedding would mean more. More of him. It was still all training and fighting.

Bulma suddenly smiled to herself, though a bit sadly. "What do you expect? He's a Saiyan."

The turquoise-haired woman pulled out a glossy photo taken nearly a week ago. And darned if she hadn't had to pay big bucks to get them back this fast. Big bucks. But it was worth it. Bulma had thought the photo shoot a bust but thought she could at least have a decent picture of her in her gown. And she did. Plus what looked like a hundred shots of just the cake.

But there were a few pictures that had been a total surprise.

One was for just herself. A picture of her trying to tickle a smile out of baby Trunks. Vegeta had been in the background, behind her. Not smiling, of course. But it was the look in his eyes. The possessive expression on his face. The smug look as he watched them that had made her hold catch her breath. He never looked at her like that when she could see it. But the photographer had captured it perfectly.

Sure it reeked of male domination, which was silly. And yes, it was completely archaic. But the sheer sense of possession, of her and Trunks, had literally made her heart skip a beat.

And then there was this picture. Bulma smiled as she shook her head. Bad Man indeed. That kiss he'd given her that had ruined her make-up, dress and hair? It was HOT. And the picture was smoking.

It showed her, bent over his arm but him holding her easily. Strength personified. And it showed him claiming her as his mate. That kiss was pure sultry domination. This one she was making sure he had on hand. A picture showing him in control? Oh yeah, he'd like this one.

Training room or not, he was getting a picture of his wife and that was the end of the story.

Bulma looked around and then headed toward a trunk meant to hold personal items. Wouldn't Vegeta be surprised when he opened this and found a picture to remind him of her? She opened the trunk, and frowned at the dirty laundry. She tossed it all over her shoulder one piece at a time for the bots to pick up and clean.

Looking back down, she suddenly froze. There was a black book, roughly the shape of pictures. She even recognized the cheap leather from the temple. Bulma's hand nearly shook a bit as she turned it over, tracing the name of the temple with her forefinger. Then she opened it slowly.

Tears formed in her wide blue eyes.

It was a hideous picture. Her turquoise hair was limp and flat. Her blouse was wrinkled and sweat stained. The hat? Oh, nothing could be said good about that hat. But she was smiling. Big time smiling. Looking into the face of her new husband, who still wasn't smiling. But he did look ... calm? Relaxed? Triumphant? Dare she say ...happy? No, but he sure did look pleased.

Bulma heard a bot bump into the console and she gave a quick start, looking around wildly. No, Vegeta would take a shower and then eat a ton of food. He wouldn't be back here so quickly. Still. She didn't want him to know that she'd seen this picture.

A picture he'd kept. Here. Where he trained. Bulma bit her bottom lip and put it back just like she'd found it. She'd have to give the other picture to him personally, and it didn't matter if it meant more to her than it did to him.

He had his picture. Not a posed affair, nothing fancy and made up. But a memory of when she'd finally told the man 'yes'.

.III

Vegeta yawned and headed upstairs. Full, clean and replete. Training was going well and he'd be ready for when the next ...next ...

The Saiyan stood in the open door, staring.

Bulma smiled at him gently, standing next to the bed in the laciest see-through gown he'd ever seen. "Man? My Saiyan man? Close the door, please."

Vegeta didn't even bother to tell her not to tell him what to do. His mouth was suddenly too dry anyway. He shut the door and grinned at her.

"Do you like the candles?" Bulma asked in a throaty purr of a voice.

The warrior shook his head, his eyes never leaving his mate. His wife.

"Do you like the music?" She smiled tantalizingly, gesturing toward the tiny but high-tech sound system.

Again the warrior shook his head, advancing on her.

"So it must be the gown you like?" Bulma grinned as Vegeta hooked a finger in the bodice and ripped the lacy frothy thing off her body. "Guess not."

Rough hands gripped her hips and she grimaced, his grip immediately lightened although he still pulled her into his body. Sighing happily, she nosed the collar of his shirt aside to nip at his skin.

The warrior's hands slid up her bare back to tilt her head so he could kiss her properly. Bulma sank into the heat with a happy sigh.

"I'm sorry I don't have an enemy for you to soak a weapon in their blood." The temptress teased him.

"I'll find one for you." He growled, sniffing at her neck and then laving the sensitive skin there with his tongue. He started to guide her toward the bed, but Bulma shook her head and pulled back slightly.

Vegeta frowned.

"You owe me." She grinned.

His frown deepened, then his eyes widened in shock.

"Now. Tonight." Bulma ran one finger down over the hard muscles of his chest and abdomen to the waistband of his slacks. She tugged.

"Woman ..."

"I didn't marry a coward." Bulma raised one eyebrow, knowing she was playing with fire.

Vegeta's face darkened.

"You told me you'd take me into battle." She pointed out in her most sultry voice, ignoring his ill expression.

"Woman ...that's different. The ...that ...what you want is not a Saiyan way."

Bulma smiled and unbuttoned his shirt while he was distracted. "You told me that the dropping of the body at the foot of the wife ..."

"Mate."

"Mate." She corrected obediently, even as she pulled the tails of his shirt from his pants and ran her hands appreciatively up his chiseled chest muscles. "Was an ancient custom, and that it had changed over the years."

Vegeta frowned at her, already seeing where she was heading. "It's not the same."

"Traditions can change." Bulma leaned in and kissed his chest, right next to one of his flat male nipples. Then she looked into his face and shifted the subject. "Does a princess cut diamond make me royalty?"

The Saiyan looked lost a moment and then he shook his head. "No."

"Did I become a princess by marrying you? Prince Vegeta?"

The man sighed and shook his head again. "You're not Saiyan. So no."

"So I can't make a royal declaration of changing a tradition?" She pouted prettily and slid her hands into the cloth of his shirt around his shoulders and slid it off of him completely.

"No woman, you can not." Vegeta gifted her with a very small, very rueful smile. "Nice try though."

Bulma leaned in, letting her bare breasts meet his bare chest. "So why did you choose a princess cut diamond for my ring?"

"It was ...suitable." He growled, and then swooped her into his arms and tossed her on the bed. He looked so arrogant standing next to the bed, hands on his hips, watching her as she kicked off her high heels and then sit up to look at him.

"So I'm your princess, but don't get the title?" She teased him, laughing gently.

"You're not a princess, you're my mate." He amended, trying to see where she was going with this.

"But you're the Prince of all Saiyans." She pointed out. "As your mate, that gives me some say-so."

Vegeta sighed. "The planet is gone and there are only two full-blooded Saiyans left, and you only out-rank one of us. And it's not me. Rule away."

"I will." She smiled. "But I want to know if I can beg the Royal Family for a boon."

The Saiyan went still. He sighed and rolled his eyes. "If you want a gift, just say so."

"I want to bite my husband."

Vegeta shook his head. "Woman, you don't give up."

"Ah, you love that about me."

"Yes." He said as he reached for her. "But a man could wish ..."

Bulma smiled and then dropped her mouth open as his words registered. "You love me?" She scooted back on the bed, out of reach.

Vegeta glared at her. "I did not say that, Woman."

"Yes you did." She whispered. "Oh Vegeta. Man, my man. My Saiyan Prince. I love you."

He stared at her a long moment, then grunted and nodded, accepting her declaration though offering nothing more in return.

Somehow, she knew that was all she was going to get. And it was all that she needed. For now. She'd seen the picture he had of her. She knew all she needed for right now at least. And the fact that he accepted her love, was simply amazing.

"Two Saiyans. That's all that's left. From here on in, it will be only half-bloods for the next generation. Basically a whole new race." She grinned full out.

Vegeta sighed again, not stupid. "New race, new traditions?" He guessed.

"Yes." She pointed at him.

Vegeta caught her finger and pulled her gently toward him. "No."

"You promised. And I don't demand the blood of my enemies. Just you. Here. Now."

A vein throbbed on the left side of Vegeta's eye and he sighed. He had promised, damn it. "Woman? You will reconsider."

Bulma could sense victory and stood up, turning him around to unbuckle his pants. Once he was bare, she pushed him to sit on the edge of the bed.

"You would trust me at your back in a battle?" She asked as she knelt between his knees.

Vegeta eyed her cautiously. "So I have said."

"Prove it. Prove you trust me." Bulma leaned in and carefully blew across the head of his manhood. While Vegeta might have qualms about what was coming next, his penis did not. Already at half-mast, it stood to immediate attention.

"Once. Once only." He warned her. "And only for a minute."

Bulma's tongue moved out to trace the head of his member and Vegeta visibly shuddered, unable to stop himself as fire moved through his veins. "We'll see." She promised as she moved to take him in hand ...and in mouth.

.III

A hoarse shout of victory and pleasure fairly shook the rafters of the huge house.

Bulma's mother looked up curiously from where she was feeding baby Trunks, who didn't appear to notice anything except that the flow of food had paused. He batted at his grandmother's hand until she started feeding him again.

"A storm? Perhaps you should put up the boards to protect the windows, dear." She said, peering outside at the perfectly beautiful day, not a cloud in the sky except one or two white puffs moving lazily in the nice breeze.

Dr. Briefs looked up at the ceiling, blushed and looked back down at his paper. "Maybe I just need to check the soundproofing." He coughed and turned the page. "Later. Much later."

Baby Trunks took the spoon from his grandmother and put it in his mouth, upside down. Immediately Bulma's mother lost all interest in the 'storm' and started clapping her hands in delight.

.III

Panting, sweating, and very, very pleased, Vegeta looked up at the ceiling. He could feel Bulma moving up beside him, and he lifted an arm to make room for her.

His mate settled in beside him, resting her chin on his chest and giving him a smug look. "Well?"

Vegeta squeezed her and nodded. "The Royal Family agrees with the petition to begin this new tradition."

Bulma grinned and kissed his chest, laying her head against him, listening to his heart beat.

"However ..."

The turquoise-haired woman looked up. "Huh?"

"More research on the matter would not be a bad idea." Vegeta said decisively.

Bulma grinned. "Oh, you want me to do that again sometime. I thought it was just once ...and just for a minute?" They'd already blown the time limit to pieces anyway.

Vegeta gave her an unreadable look and rolled her onto her back. Bulma squealed with surprise then grinned up at him. "What are you doing?"

"Researching the new Saiyan tradition." He told her gruffly, then began to kiss his way down her body. Bulma's eyes went wide, then closed in appreciation.

"Let's hear it for research. Rah, rah ...RAH! Oh yes, right there!" She moaned, arching her back as she lay with her own personal Saiyan Prince.

She loved him.

And one day, one day ...maybe he could give her the words in return. But love was there. Love was definitely there. You just had to translate it from Saiyan to Earth and back again.

.III

Fini.


End file.
